HR 4a Women of High Reaches
by slytherinsal
Summary: A look at some of the women at High Reaches Weyr in more detail; runs roughly from spring 2521 to spring 2522 with overlap of stories, some over more time than others. Short stories; semi braided novel. Tried to make some order of it! rated for a death.
1. Chapter 1

Tylisse 3-26-2521 – month 11 2521

Tylisse yawned, and stretched luxuriantly as she finished helping her daughter T'alla to oil the girl's young green dragon Seelith. It was a tiring time for all the young newly Impressed dragonriders with the voracious appetites and rapid growth of the dragonets; and Tylisse had been helping all the newly Impressed girls as well as T'alla. She was tired herself; but it was a good tired, a feeling as though something had been accomplished. How different this was to the Seahold where poor diet, grief and worry for the future had been grinding her down! Not that the other holderfolk had let her or her daughter starve, but there were no extra rations for excess mouths. Hints had been dropped to the effect that she would be considered more productive were she to marry again and breed future fishermen, and hints too that her daughter was also of marriageable age. Tylisse shuddered. A miscarriage every year and feeling weaker every time had made her frightened of bearing more children. There had been one who had lived a while, long enough to prattle her name in his childish fashion before he succumbed to some winter's ailment. She sniffed hard, putting the sorrow behind her, burying the bitterness at her husband's shrug and declaration that little Tyal would never have been strong enough to make a good fisherman anyway. Rayal had been a good enough husband, but he never had understood what the grief of every loss had meant, the more when she thought she had succeeded in giving him a son. Then Rayal had drowned and life had become suddenly harder, with uncertainty for the future an added worry. She swore that she would never marry another fisherman, and nor would her daughter; so she had packed together their meagre belongings and took her apprehensive but excited daughter to High Reaches Weyr.

The decision had been justified; Tyalla was now T'alla and bonded with green Seelith, a pretty little dragon with soft skin all the colours of the sea on one of its deceptively calm days. There were grey greens, deep greens, grass greens and rich viridians, all playing in the rippling muscles and sleek hide of the little dragon. Tylisse loved Seelith deeply for the love and security she gave to her beloved daughter. Yet she had to recognise that being bonded to a green dragon could bring its own problems. As they left Seelith drowsing happily, Tylisse slipped her arm through her daughter's and drew the girl aside. They could have passed as sisters standing there; T'alla had cut her rich brown hair short, as many young riders did, whereas Tylisse wore hers long in accordance with Holderfolk custom, but it was the same rich shade. True, care had etched a lock or two of grey, but it scarcely noticed; and release of worry and good diet had done wonders for Tylisse's spare figure and had smoothed away the little lines that had started to form about her eyes. Now Tylisse looked more her true age, which was scarce thirty turns, for she had been married young to Rayal and had conceived Tyalla straight away.

T'alla recognised that her mother wanted private speech with her and cocked her neat brown head interrogatively on one side. Tylisse did not beat about the bush.

"When she's grown, she'll want to mate." She said. "It would be as well if you could find a kind Brown or large Blue rider who will show you what to do beforehand and whose dragon will be sure to catch her."

T'alla had an excellent relationship with her mother, understanding much of what was un-said as well as what was said. She nodded understanding, but pulled a face. She hated being forced into decisions not of her own devising, and she was more willing to say so than her gentle, if stubborn, mother.

"Thank you Tylisse." She said "But I don't want to have to be so cold blooded about it. I'll be seeing a lot of the other riders – I'm bound to fall in love in my own time."

Her mother sighed, then laughed ruefully.

"Such things are lovely in Harpers' tales." She said, matter of factly. "But how often does love happen in the real world – especially with someone suitable and at the right time. Here in the Weyr you don't have to worry – you can always hope to fall in love when you are more experienced. In the meantime, it's only good sense to have a relationship with someone kind who won't hurt you."

T'alla made a rude noise and Tylisse frowned. The girl cried,

"I'm sorry, Tylisse, but it DOES happen – look at T'lana and Sh'rilla and Y'lara and – and lots of them! Why should it be any different for me?"

"You're very young." Her mother sighed. "You may be lucky – but you might not. Consider the idea for me, will you?"

T'alla sighed too.

"Very well. I'll let you throw me at suitable men – I know you dearest Tylisse – and I'll do my best to like them for you. But I'll not let the colour or size of a man's dragon or even if he's a rider influence me"

With that Tylisse had to be content; but she noted that from comments let drop by other female riders that there seemed to be no comparison between non riders once dragonlust had entered the equation! It was a shame, she mused, that Sh'allen's Warneth would never fly, for he seemed an ideal partner for an inexperienced girl. It was plain that he was gentle and caring, and he always seemed to be aware of anything that needed doing. As Warneth was also very young there was that point in common, though Sh'allen was tacitly left much to his own devices by the other new riders. He had, after all, been through this all before, and would not, moreover, be needing to brush up on the finer points of flying Thread since Warneth would never fly. Not that he was in any way stand-offish and often offered offhand suggestions and advice to the young riders, helping R'gar more and more as his heartache eased. Even so, he was not really one of them, and how should he be when he was so much older and more experienced! Still, there was always his brother T'ral, a Dragonhealer with gentle hands and rider of Brown Firath. Yet somehow there was something so fine, so sensitive about Sh'allen that Tylisse wondered whether, after all, an introduction to loving would be enough to prepare T'alla for the possible ordeal to come. Surely the girl could not fail to be drawn to the stirling qualities of such men as these brothers – one must surely attract her, and if the braver, the nicer and the better looking of the two happened to be Sh'allen, well, there must be ways around the problem of first flight.

oOoOo

Of course, there was a big difference between theory, and practice. Experienced Riders, especially those of the status of Sh'allen and T'ral, were unlikely to come much into contact with weyrlings like T'alla and still less with a romance promoting lower cavern woman as Tylisse effectively was. Even in the egalitarian High Reaches, Riders were accorded the status due to them for their exploits and T'ral had the added kudos of being a dragonhealer. Sh'allen was still treated by many as though he were still a Bronze Rider, partly from habit but mostly out of the respect that the majority of the personnel of the Weyr felt towards the young man. Many had felt that Sh'len, as he had been as Tath's rider, had been a serious contender to follow T'bor as Weyrleader one day, and he was at least as well thought of as T'kil. The fatal accident had made that question academic; but many still sought his advice, and T'bor considered his opinion worth while listening to. Of course, with Warneth's youth, Sh'allen was often near the Impressed weyrlings so that the little dragon could join in with his clutch mates, and he often helped out, which made him a little more accessible. Though his sense of loss was less intense with Warneth to need and love him, though, Sh'allen still tended to be rather remote and distant with those not of his intimate circle of friends. Tylisse felt that the only way to get to know the brothers was to make herself useful, and thus be able to put in a word for her offspring. Accordingly, she took it upon herself to bring klah for them both, and undertake such tasks as she could that were not already covered by other drudges. She bitterly regretted that the years of gutting cold rough skinned fish had left her hands unequal to the task of fine mending, but her fingers were nimble enough despite their roughened ends to contrive skilfully knotted bags which shyly she offered to Sh'allen.

"I – I thought they might be useful to put scrolls in and hang them up to keep them dry and airy." She murmured. "You and your brother have a lot of teaching scrolls."

Sh'allen was surprised, pleased and touched. He had been helping R'gar with teaching duties, better able to bear being around weyrlings since Warneth had helped fill the aching hole left by the death of Tath.

"Thanks!" he said, flashing Tylisse his rare smile. "That's a clever idea – it's so difficult to see if damp has got into the regular boxes."

Tylisse flushed with pleasure and murmured something about how she and her daughter were not too bad at knot-work. Sh'allen grinned.

"Well I daresay when she's grown up she'll be as good as her mother." He said. "Are you a candidate?"

Tylisse's mouth fell open.

"I Oh no, sir, I'm too old for that." She shook her head to emphasise the negative. "I brought my daughter – she's newly Impressed."

Sh'allen raised an eybrow in disbelief.

"Never, surely!" he said. "Since when have dragonets picked babes? You can't have a daughter of age can you?"

Tylisse flushed again and she thrust forward her chin.

"My daughter is T'alla." She said firmly. "I do not lie, sir. I am very proud of T'alla but I would not tell untruths about her. As well as being wrong, it would ultimately be self defeating."

Sh'allen's mouth twitched with unaccustomed amusement. This practical twist to the reasons for honesty reminded him a little of his friend T'lana. He recalled now that the young seabred girl had come with her mother – they must breed from them young at that Hold, he reflected. Y'lara too had come rather young to Impress and from the same Hold, like T'alla only thirteen turns old.

"Are you a relative of our Y'lara?" He asked curiously. Tylisse nodded. She had been inclined to bridle at his inexplicable laughing at her, but there seemed to be no malice in it.

"Y'lara is a distant cousin of mine." She admitted. "She's more forceful than T'alla and me, but that doesn't mean we don't have as much pride or as much ability to hold our own if we need to. It was a decision that we made to come to the Weyr, we did not flee for fear of doing anything else." She drew herself up proudly. She felt a need to make the tall dragonrider know that she and her daughter were not meek nor easily dictated to. They had, after all, defied the unreasonable wishes of the unmarried hold males for some months before leaving!

Sh'allen smiled understandingly and thanked her again; determining to ask Y'lara about her quieter cousin. Tylisse was, in the meantime only too ready to tell him what a fine daughter T'alla was to her, hard working and responsible.

"I hope she manages to have fun too." Said Sh'allen dryly. Tylisse nodded.

"Yes, sir, she's not averse to enjoying herself now there's some time to do so, and it's not considered wrong." Sh'allen reflected that this was rather a revealing comment – but decided not to pursue it. He thanked Tylisse again and went on his way to find Y'lara.

oOoOo

Y'lara grinned cheerfully at Sh'allen.

"You have to understand" she explained "That you either have to prove yourself better that the boys in Safehaven Hold or you have to be womanly and submissive. I grew up with eight brothers. Tylisse's no milksop though!" she added. "She's quiet, but she's pretty stubborn. Rayal didn't have it all his own way I reckon, though she's been weakened by too many dead babies. To leave takes some doing if you don't have the support – both my parents were keen for me to try for Impression so I was dead lucky. Don't worry about T'alla, Sh'allen – she'll work out just fine as a rider. She's a sharp enough tongue on her when she's feeling in control. If you're finding her quiet in lessons, it's just because she's summing you up."

"I wasn't actually worrying about T'alla, actually." Said Sh'allen. "I scarcely see the female weyrlings, that's T'lan's business. I was just curious that so young a woman as Tylisse should have an Impressed daughter."

Y'lara snorted.

"It's a bad custom, marrying off a girl as soon as she starts bleeding." She said, her eyes flashing. "I wish we were allowed to intervene and stop it. But it happens. At least here we'll separate off the girls that are too young, same as we do the littlest boys. You can - no, I'll reassure Tylisse of that."

Sh'allen nodded thanks; it had been something that had disturbed him. Rarely did girls know their own minds as young as T'lan and Y'lara had – but those two were, he told himself, rather unusual and special people. Especially dear T'lan!

oOoOo

Tylisse meanwhile did what she could to introduce T'alla to Sh'allen's notice, taking the tack of greeting Warneth – who was a dear little thing in any case, and such a pretty colour russet brown – and mentioning how happy T'alla had become since they had come to the Weyr. Sh'allen was too polite to say that he was entirely unmoved by T'alla or any other scrubby brat for that matter; but he was happy to let Tylisse talk, for her affection towards Warneth was plainly genuine, and Sh'allen was biased towards anyone who showed any kindness to his friend. Warneth was even friendlier, and reached out a long neck to Tylisse to have his eyebrow ridges rubbed.

"May I?" she asked Sh'allen, shyly. He shrugged one shoulder, a half smile on his face as he regarded his soul mate.

"That's what he wants." He said softly. "Soppy fool."

Warneth snorted disparagingly; and, delighted, Tylisse rubbed the soft skin of the young sport.

oOoOo

Tylisse was astonished when Y'lara approached her and explained the custom of dealing with avoiding the potentially physically damaging side effects of dragonlust by sequestering the littlest boys and those who had not already experimented with other boys as lovers.

"It's only sensible, after all." Said Y'lara, practically. "And should be extended to younger girls. Apart from the pain and distress, what's the good of training up a pair only for the human half to bleed to death and the dragon half to go **between** from grief. Admittedly, sexual immaturity can inhibit a dragon to a certain extent, but it's not a guarantee. Hope that makes you feel a bit better." She added gruffly, for Y'lara was not one to show her softer side readily. It did; and Tylisse embarrassed her prickly cousin by hugging her, which made the Green rider snort and stalk off in pretended dudgeon.

oOoOo

T'lana was pleased that Y'lara had taken it on herself to sort out what might have become a problem. The seabred girl had recently herself come to terms with having woken up beside a rider who was not her weyrmate M'kel and knew that, even with a pleasant experience for someone who knew what they were doing, it could be disconcerting. Moreover, T'alla had turned out to be much younger than anyone had though; she was a well-grown girl, and both she and Tylisse had looked older than their turns when they had arrived exhausted and careworn at the Weyr. She had a word herself with T'alla, and found the girl philosophical about dragon lust; but not unwilling to defer her own participation if offered the opportunity.

"Mother had the idea I should pick myself someone kind" she explained to the little Weyrwoman "but I'm just as happy to wait until I've got a lover. It's not totally silly to want to fall in love, is it Weyrwoman?"

T'lana hugged her.

"Not at all, dear one." She said. "But you may find that making some close friends among young blue and brown riders is a good idea too, so that you have fun while you wait to find someone special. You've plenty of time as yet for love."

T'alla grinned.

"You're so relaxed about everything." She commented. T'lana laughed.

"It helps our dragons to be relaxed – and keeps us beautiful!" she grinned. "You and Seelith will sort yourselves out when the time comes – and it's no good getting too uptight before that's imminent. Just enjoy yourself as Seelith grows and you learn more together."

T'alla was happy to take T'lana's advice. She knew that here in the Weyr there would be no pressure on her as there had been back in the Hold. She told Tylisse what T'lan had said; and Tylisse told her that Y'lara had already explained.

"Good.." Said T'alla "That means you don't have to poke me at every available male you like, doesn't it."

Tylisse flushed.

"I do NOT poke you at people!" She asseverated.

"No? then why do you keep trying to get me to talk to Sh'allen?" asked T'alla, half amused and half irritated by her mother's interference.

"Just looking to the future." Tylisse tried to maintain some semblance of dignity. "He's the nicest and the most handsome young man here and you should be flattered he always speaks to you when he sees you."

T'alla was flattered that Sh'allen had taken to politely passing the time of day when their paths crossed, but did not intend to admit it.

"Fardles." She declared airily. "I can think of a dozen boys better looking than Sh'allen, and not so old either. I'll be looking for a lover, not a father. Why don't you have him if you like him so much?" she added cheekily.

Tylisse gasped, and coloured. T'alla's eyebrows went up, and she grinned.

"Sits the wind in that quarter then?" she asked, amused, and went off chuckling as her mother lost herself in a morass of half sentences and disclaimers. Her laughing face gradually sobered as she considered more deeply the implications of the emotions she had surprised in her mother, and she sought out Y'lara.

oOoOo

Y'lara was, unusually, taking things easy. She had taken herself **between **to ensure a miscarriage of T'chal's child conceived as a result – Y'lara maintained – of Vorth's and M'kel's carelessness in failing to be the couple to fly her and Tanath. The resultant bellyache had persuaded her to find some more sedentary tasks than she usually considered within her sphere, and she was glad to chat to T'alla. She had been being helped by the young seabred widow M'rian and her friend Sh'ranis, but they had gone to feed M'rian's baby, Amira. Y'lara was not one of life's natural mothers, but she felt for some reason a little depressed, and a laughing baby had not improved her mood. Thus, though glad of the distraction from her hated mending, she greeted T'alla with a grunt. T'alla knew Y'lara too well to be offended; and came straight to the point.

"I need to do something about my mother." She began, bluntly. Y'lara raised her eyebrows as she bit off a thread.

"Sounds ominous." She spat out the thread end with an expression of disgust, whether at the taste or the whole concept of sewing T'alla could not guess. The girl explained quickly.

"You know she was hoping to sort me out with a lover before you told me I didn't need to do it? well, she's gone and fallen for one of the men she picked for me." She blurted.

"What of it?" Y'lara could not see a problem. "Or are you jealous?"

T'alla shook her head rapidly, impatiently.

"It's not that." She frowned. "Only she'll not do anything on her own account – I know Tylisse. She'll just suffer quietly because – well, because. You know."

Y'lara nodded. She knew how most women were trained to subordinate themselves to needs of family and hold.

"Who?" she asked.

"Sh'allen."

Y'lara whistled.

"She's got good taste." She said, thoughtfully. "and, you know, small fry, it might just be a good thing."

T'alla was too concerned about her mother to take umbrage over being called 'small fry'. She pulled at her earlobe, a nervous habit she had developed.

"Why's that?" she asked. "I don't want Tylisse to get hurt."

"I hope she won't be." Said Y'lara. "But I was thinking about Sh'allen. A weyrmate would also help him – and it would be a bad thing if she were a rider. He'd feel bad if he couldn't participate in mating flights with her – I guess Tylisse never thought of that one when she considered him for you – and if he does go to Sarel's cothold he could hardly take one of our fighting force with him. Your mother could just be the ideal solution."

"That's all very well" put in T'alla "But I could care less about Sh'allen. Oh, I don't really mean that – " as Y'lara opened her mouth to make a stinging comment "- but I'm more concerned about Tylisse."

Y'lara grinned.

"We shall just have to throw them together, then, shan't we and see what happens!" she patted T'alla on the shoulder and buffeted her in a roughly friendly way; and with that T'alla had to be content.

oOoOo

Y'lara waylaid Tylisse later.

You know how to prepare fish oil, don't you?" She asked. Tylisse nodded, and Y'lara went on, "R'gar directs the use of fish oil as a rub for Warneth's wing roots. If it helps joint-ail he says, it should help ease any discomfort in the little creature's twisted bones. Perhaps you'll help Sh'allen put it on too – these landsmen make such a fuss about the smell of fish. Can't think why!" she twinkled roguishly.

Tylisse coloured, pleased to be asked.

"Of course, I'm always happy to do anything I can for any dragon." She said quickly. "Warneth is so sweet, it's such a shame. Will he ever fly?"

Y'lara shook her head.

"No, there's not enough substance to the wings." She said. "But according to Sh'allen, there's no reason that he can't travel **between** providing they're careful to leap on going and emerge a short drop above the ground."

"Sounds a little jerky." Tylisse said, dubiously. Y'lara shrugged.

"You ever argued with a dragonman over his dragon's capabilities? No? It's generally fairly futile unless you're R'gar or T'bor. I'M not going to contradict Sh'allen. First egg knows, the man's got enough experience, and if he and Warneth are prepared for a bumpy ride, I guess I'll not make it my business." She grinned to indicate that no rebuke was meant, and shooed Tylisse towards the kitchen caverns to prepare the oil.

oOoOo

Sh'allen was glad of the fish oil; R'gar had told him that Y'lara had had an idea to help Warneth.

"_Though I do not have much pain really" _Warneth said.

"But you do have some." Sh'allen was concerned for his dear friend. "Besides, a little bird tells me that Y'lara is up to something – she doesn't usually concern herself with dragonhealing – and I'd like to know what."

He found out when Tylisse presented herself with the oil, rather diffidently offering to help rub it in. He smiled at her encouragingly. Tylisse blushed furiously, and Sh'allen reflected how charming she looked with the colour in her cheeks. He was not looking for romance, and he felt briefly annoyed with Y'lara; but it would do no good to take it out on the helpful young woman who had already made his storage of scrolls easier. Strange, he had had the feeling on previous occasions that Tylisse might have been trying to fix his attention with her daughter – but of course, that was ridiculous, for the girl was scarce more than a babe! Sh'allen conveniently forgot that T'lana had determinedly pursued R'gar at not much older!

"If you would rub the left hand side of his wing roots while I do the right" he said, "That would be very helpful. Is Seelith less demanding now?" He added, knowing that Tylisse was very fond of her daughter's dragonet. Tylisse nodded wordlessly. Sh'allen pulled a face to himself. She had been quite chatty when telling him T'alla's virtues. Maybe she really had been trying to interest him in the girl. Ah, but that was before Y'lara had informed the child that she had no need to worry about her dragon's maturity. Had Tylisse wanted him merely to tutor the girl? Sh'allen was not sure whether to be flattered or angry! And now Y'lara was thrusting the mother on to him – at least that was a more realistic age to be considering. He had no intention of playing Y'lara's games, though – and perhaps he had better make that quite clear to Tylisse before any misunderstandings arose!

oOoOo

Tylisse found it impossible to meet Sh'allen's gaze. Her daughter's joking remarks had made her realise the truth – that she was strongly attracted to the Brown Rider. She also suspected now that Y'lara had sent her to help on the suggestion of T'alla, and this thought embarrassed her. She was certain that Sh'allen too saw through the ploy, and was afraid lest he think that it had been her idea. Willing to do anything to help her daughter, Tylisse shrank from putting herself forward. Besides, she told herself, as a Green Rider, T'alla had some ranking. Thus she kept her face down and spoke the barest minimum to try not to seem forward, and concentrated on doing her best for dear Warneth. That at least was easy; the young dragon had subsided happily and was crooning gently as the stinking oil smoothed into his soft hide. Suddenly her hand encountered Sh'allen's, and it sent a tingle through her whole body! Shocked, she looked up, and met his eyes….could not look away. Sh'allen was smiling ruefully.

"Y'lara does like to interfere, doesn't she?" He said, conversationally. Tylisse swallowed hard.

"She means well." She whispered.

The smile became a touch broader.

"Oh yes, she means well." Sh'allen agreed. "I had meant to tell you that I did not think that it would be wise for us to let ourselves get entangled in Y'lara's plans…" - blinking, she tore her gaze from his, and nodded quickly in acquiescence, certain that he was angry at being manipulated. Gently he reached out an oily hand and turned her face back to his before continuing. "…but perhaps it would be better not to be led by irritation over Y'lara's high handedness, and just get to know each other anyway, hmmm?"

Tylisse blushed furiously.

"You are not angry?" she asked in a small voice.

"Angry? Oh no, certainly not even annoyed – at you." He said. "You evidently are fond of Warneth, which predisposes in me kindly feelings in any case. I won't insult you by being sorry for you – for you have the courage and determination to leave your troubles behind you and seek a new life. I don't know you very well yet, and I've been finding it difficult lately to reach out to people. But if you are prepared to get to know an old grouch, I think I'd like to try to be friends. More than that – I don't know. Is that acceptable?"

His voice was quiet, controlled, the long speech an effort. Tylisse smiled mistily at him while tears sparkled on her lashes.

"You are so good…so kind…" she whispered. "I – I had hoped you would look kindly on T'alla, which is why I was rather pushy…"

"Bother T'alla!" said Sh'allen, forcibly. "I'm sure she's a nice child, Tylisse, and I understand your motives. But she can sort herself out."

Tylisse laughed.

"That's what she says." She confessed.

"You see? I said she was a good girl." Sh'allen smiled. "Now stop thinking about her, and think about yourself."

Warneth interposed a complaint that they had stopped thinking about him, and broadcast the thought to Tylisse as well. Filled with contrition she reached for more oil, while Sh'allen called Warneth a spoiled and cosseted babe!

"_And so I should be."_the little dragon said complacently. _"Because you love me."_ Sh'allen met Tylisse's eyes over Warneth's brown back and they laughed together; and suddenly, Tylisse knew that here was comfort, and friendship and ultimately shared love as well as the physical attraction that drew her so strongly. And she knew too that Warneth approved!


	2. Chapter 2

This takes place variously and in overlapping episodes between autumn 2521 and early spring 2522

A'ira

The cold, crisp air was invigorating and A'ira's young sons' faces glowed with health and cold air as they ran about enjoying themselves at the Winter Fair at Nabol. Her little daughter Carralai was swathed in clothes, at just nine months old too small to be sufficiently mobile to keep warm on her own. A'ira balanced the babe on her hip, keeping her close to her own body warmth as Clor and Aram chased each other around the stalls with other youngsters. A'ira sighed with happiness. It had been more than two years now since T'lana had swept her into the Weyr where she had met R'cal. She smiled fondly down at the daughter he had given her, the babe's hair as red as her sire's still. Aye, and he was a good father to Clor and Aram too, better she had to admit than their own father would have been if he had lived, at least if one compared his treatment of young Clor with R'cal's gentler, patient approach to Aram. A'ira wondered guiltily as she sometimes did if it were wrong to be glad that Clom had killed himself and given her and the boys a better life. Yet it was his choice to leave her to cope as best she could with the crippling debts he had taken on, he could scarcely blame her if she had taken an easier path by going to the Weyr. And meeting R'cal – that was just magical! R'cal was just running an errand right now; they had run into the Lady Rillys of Rivenhill Hold and she had asked for a lift to visit High Reaches Weyr. R'cal had been glad to oblige a friend of T'lana's, one of his favourite people!

Aram ducked away from his brother and set off laughing behind the stalls; and A'ira hastily followed. They were heading towards the hiring stands, where itinerant workers waited for hire from holders and cotholders. Sometimes these wanderers could be a little rough, and A'ira sharply called the boys to her by name.

A man turned sharply at her voice – and for a moment she felt giddy as she thought Clom had returned from the dead! Then she realised that it was only his brother, Coram. Coram strode over.

"Atira! What are you doing here? Keep those brats in order and stop shaming the family, or I'll swelp them! I'm prepared to accept them into my own family, and I'll soon teach them manners then!" his tone was surly, and A'ira's mouth dropped open. She had become so accustomed to being treated with the respect due to her status as a dragonrider that the condescending offer – if it could be called that – completely took her breath away.

"I hardly think so, Coram." She said coldly. "They are my children, and I will bring them up. They will not be scarcely tolerated drudges for you – and though I might have let you bully me into it before, when finding the next meal was a problem, do you really think that I'm going to fall at your feet in gratitude for suggesting they take a step down in life? Especially if, as it seems, you've been forced to come here for hire. Lord Bargen evict you from your dirty little cot, did he?"

He flushed, and went to strike her. A'ira swayed effortlessly out of the way, and Clor launched himself on his mother's attacker.

"Bad Man! Get off mummy!" he yelled. Coram went to cuff the child out of the way and knocked him flying. A'ira saw red and swung a fist at her erstwhile brother in law.

Coram's head jerked back satisfactorily and he spat blood.

"You HIT me!" he gasped, scarcely able to believe it.

"You hit my son."

"Little brat. I'll take him and teach him!" He looked daggers at Clom, now hiding with Aram behind A'ira's legs. "And so help me, I'll school you too, Atira, daring to say I'm thrown out when I'm here to hire! You'll come with me and I'll not need to pay extra hands to work the fields now you've been thrown out of your position as loving wench at the Weyr together with whatever dragonman's brat was got on you!" He reached out to grab A'ira's arm. Sick and cold in her stomach, hating a scene and knowing herself to be the centre of it in a knot of deeply interested people, A'ira forced herself to be calm as she stepped back. There was no way on Pern he could take her, or exert any control over her infant daughter; but could he take her sons from her and force them to slave for him on grounds that he was their nearest living male relative? Her only chance was to be positive and to declare that he had no rights and to sound as if she knew it for fact.

"No, actually Coram, you will not." She said with a calm that she was very far from feeling. "These are my sons, and they return to the Weyr with me and their foster father after this Gather is over. And you will please refrain from calling me 'Atira' and use the proper honorific."

"Proper honorific? What nonsense is this?" growled Coram.

"At High Reaches, it is customary for females to contract as well as men. I am now A'ira." she tossed back her well groomed hair and stared him out. He sneered.

"A'ira? are you asking me to believe that a stupid bovine like you could Impress? I know Clom was enough infatuated that he only beat you occasionally, but you're nothing special. Just a drudge whose body is at the beck and call of all comers at the Weyr."

There had been a split in the support for Coram's claim before this little speech, some of the spectators feeling that he had a right to his kinsman's sons; but some of his support evaporated. Especially as Joroth and little golden Summer, A'ira's firelizard, decided to intervene then. Summer arrived first from **between, **chattering angrily as A'ira's upset thoughts had woken her from sleep on Joroth's neck. She hissed ant Coram, and he took an involuntary step backwards. A'ira soothed the little creature, stroking her head knob as Coram spluttered in disbelief. He did a great deal more than splutter as the downdraft from Joroth's wings nearly threw him off balance. She might only be a small Green dragon; but a dragon was still a dragon, and larger close to than most people were prepared to cope with! There was a respectful break in the circle of spectators to allow Joroth through to land by her beloved A'ira. Coram squealed. A'ira snorted.

"And like all bullies, you're a coward." She said scornfully. "There's no need to hide from this snivelling creature, boys! He can't even face a dragon. He's happy to beat up on children and what he thinks are defenceless women – but he has no real balls. I'm not afraid of you, Coram. _I've fought Thread!_"

As she spoke, she knew it was true. She was not afraid of her blustering brother in law. Even without Joroth to back her up, she knew he could never force her to do anything. She had no need to fear anything. She had Joroth's love, and R'cal's, and the backing of her new family, the Weyr. Almost she felt sorry for her former relatives. Almost; but not quite.

R'cal's arrival on Camnath finalised the rout of Coram. Quite a few of the crowd dissipated as well; his face did not encourage unnecessary heroics in defence of the bullying cotholder. Gradually the interested watchers drifted away from what was rapidly becoming a non-event.

"What's happening?" R'cal asked peremptorily. A'ira went o his arms.

"Clom's brother was here. He tried to force me to go and work for him and take the boys. He can't take our boys, can he?" she asked, a touch of anxiety clouding her confidence. R'cal shook his head, too choked to speak that she should consider them his boys as well.

"No, love." He told her. "They belong to their mother unless rejected until old enough to make a reasoned choice unless an overlord thinks they are being maltreated. Do you think they'll make any choice but to stay?"

A'ira shook her head.

"And he can't claim they're being maltreated." She said happily. "If he applies to Lord Bargen, he'll ask T'bor, isn't that so?"

R'cal nodded.

"And T'bor will laugh." He said. "He knows who their real family is."

As if to reiterate this, Aram tugged at R'cal's leg.

"Daddy, Aram go home. Bad man shouted at mummy!"

R'cal picked the youngster up.

"We'll not let any bad man frighten us home, will we?" he asked, pulling the toddler's nose gently. "Not a big brave dragonman's son, huh?"

"I wasn't afraid!" Clor had to put in. "I chased him! We're Weyrbred! We don't like bad men!"

R'cal laughed.

"How about it, funnyface?" he asked Aram.

"Daddy not let bad man hurt mummy." Said Aram. "Bubbly pies?" he added hopefully. R'cal grinned.

"Bubbly pies it is!" he declared.


	3. Chapter 3

Z'linda 9-07-2521 – 12-04-2521

I

Z'linda had decided to take her cousin T'lana's advice over the first mating flight of her young Green dragon, Zith, and leave the choice of mate to Zith's preference. As Z'linda had formed no attachments, it seemed a reasonably sensible thing to do; and all the Weyrwomen had assured her that the experience was a good one. She was a little nervous; and this did NOT improve her mood, already made irritable by Zith's pre-nubile bad temper. Z'linda was not the only person to be glad when the little Green blooded her kill, and screamed challenge at the waiting Blues and Browns. She was not, however, prepared for the sheer intensity of dragon generated feelings; and was soon caught up in Zith's delight in the chase and her pride and pleasure in being brought home by a handsome Brown. Z'linda shared Zith's pleasure with the Brown rider; and fell, like the dragons, happily asleep from exhaustion after it was over.

When Z'linda awoke, she was under the scrutiny of the Oldtimer Z'kan, who was propped on one elbow, watching her thoughtfully. She had not even been aware that he had been in the Weyr, and blurted out,

"_YOU?"_

The half-smile which had been forming at the edges of his mouth dissipated and he looked down his nose.

"And what is wrong with me – Green rider?" he asked in icy tones.

"That for one!" she exploded, having failed to notice the change of expression in her shock at who had flown her. "Your supercilious manner, and pulling rank, and generally being arrogant!"

Z'kan compressed his lips. He looked, had he realised it, even more supercilious; the armour had become automatic. He had been pleased to give Adeth a chance at a mating flight, and with such a very pretty girl as the rider. Z'kan had discovered that she was T'lan's cousin, and had not been displeased; he appreciated the help the little Weyrwoman was giving his daughter and hoped that her cousin would have some similarities of personality. This rebuff, however, had taken him rather by surprise after the general acceptance he felt he had gained around the Weyr when he came to visit Zaira.

"In that case, I suppose I'd better leave" he said coldly.

"Yes. Please." Z'linda had not entirely forgotten her manners. She was actually a little ashamed of having let herself be provoked into shouting at him; she had been working on calming down her rather hot temper before Zith rose, and had been quite pleased with herself. However, the result was desirable; he was leaving without argument.

At the doorway, Z'kan paused and looked back.

"Z'linda – if this should result in pregnancy would you think twice before using **between** to terminate? I value my daughter very much – if you didn't want to bring up a baby I could foster it…"

Z'linda's good resolutions disappeared.

"WHAT?" she screeched. "Breed babies for you to take back to Southern for T'kul to defile? Or become arrogant little snots like the rest of you? No thank you!"

Z'kan's face darkened and he strode back to the sleeping couch and grabbed her by the shoulders.

"How DARE you suggest such a thing?" He roared. "After the trouble I went to, to keep Zaira out of his way, even stretching my honour to bring her here – and if we talk arrogant, my girl, what do you think you are? Too good for a Southerner are you? Think we're all tarred with the same brush, do you? Well let me tell you that making assumptions like that is haughty in the extreme!"

He shook her hard, then threw her back against the pillows, scowling. He added,

"And if you look at life that way, believe me, Green rider, I'm glad to leave you to yourself."

With that he turned on his heel and strode into the larger cavern, calling to Adeth to bestir himself so that they might go.

Z'linda managed to wait until she heard the rush of Adeth's wings before she dissolved into tears; and it was in this lachrymose state that T'lana found her, having been alerted by Zith. She had requested a lift from the little dragon as her own Mirrith would have trouble fitting in the weyr; and put an arm around the sobbing girl.

"Dear one – I'm so sorry if I made the wrong suggestion" she said. "I had thought you had enjoyed it."

Z'linda snuffled in self pity.

"I DID" she said. "Then I found out who it was."

"Z'kan? What's wrong with him?" T'lana was genuinely puzzled.

"You grew up under T'kul's lot!" exclaimed Z'linda. "You know what those Oldtimers are like – always coming and stealing and calling it tithe, demanding kisses from girls, and likely more from the older ones! One of Lindanna's brood could be a dragonman's, you know!"

"Unlikely, since they're all unfortunate enough to resemble their father" said T'lana dryly. "Kellis is a very worthy man and a good husband but it's a shame about the nose. Still, considering the number of brats they have, maybe it's true what they say about men with big noses…"

Z'linda thumped her cousin.

"That's not the point. I remember a Brown rider paying ALL too much attention to her."

T'lana nodded, understanding.

"And that's what this is all about? That a Brown rider from the Oldtimers may have forced his attentions on your sister, so all Oldtimers and especially Brown riders are bad news and will use you?"

Z'linda glared at T'lana, furious at her bluntness; then managed a shaky laugh.

"You make it sound so childish" she complained.

"Isn't it?"

"Fardles, T'lana, it was a shock – I didn't even know he was around. And he IS arrogant."

"Granted" admitted T'lana. "If you compare him to our relaxed crew. But he's no more arrogant than many a modern day Brown rider from other Weyrs. T'bor chose people who'd take a gentle approach here BECAUSE of T'kul and his people's depredations. Also, Z'kan was based at Fort; and whilst T'ron's attitude was execrable, he never went to the extent of having his people routinely flame holders." T'lana was worried that her cousin held this prejudice, but felt sure that she could overcome it. She added, "And if you have any ability as a Logicator, you must have noticed that he's a lot less arrogant when he feels at ease. Why, he's been quite normal the last time or two he's visited, not like the first time."

"Well… maybe… but he was so formal – pulled rank – called me 'Green rider' like I hadn't a name."

T'lana raised an eyebrow.

"And you'd said nothing to him first to make him feel defensive?"

Z'linda blushed.

"I – I did express some er, surprise." She muttered.

"Well, that'd be guaranteed to set in sudden droop when in the expectation of more fun, wouldn't it?" said T'lana, prosaically. Z'linda blushed again.

"Have I been an idiot?" she asked in small voice. T'lana hugged her.

"Maybe just a little, dear one" she said, gently. "Did you at least enjoy it during?"

Z'linda's colour deepened, and a dimple appeared.

"Well…since you mention it, yes!" she admitted. "Actually, I think he was more considerate than P'rall, Bedemath's rider, even in the throes of dragonlust."

T'lana nodded, and hugged the girl again.

"I'm glad about that." She said. "But, dear one, I think maybe you owe him an explanation…"

Z'linda looked at her in lively horror.

"I don't know where to start!" she cried. "How embarrassing!"

"Yes it will be." Said T'lana. "But if he doesn't accept it, you're no worse off; and if he does, you might even gain a friend, even if you don't want Adeth to fly Zith again. Let me remind you, though, that a man who can be considerate while his dragon is involved is probably worth hanging on to – if he's still prepared to be interested and you haven't already lost him."

Z'linda stared at her cousin in exasperation.

"Honestly. T'lana, do you have to matchmake?" she asked. "You're assuming I want anyone, let alone him!"

T'lana grinned, and Z'linda scowled.

"Well I'll apologise. I'll not give him cause to call me haughty" she said. "But I'll not want to see him again, and if I'm pregnant, I'll take it **between** before I let him foster it."

T'lana had smiled approvingly at her cousin's words, but looked shocked at this last statement.

"Z'linda, he doesn't have to foster any child you have if you don't want him to." She said. "I'm sure Lanelly and I can manage another child between us if you want to foster. Don't make any hasty decisions about having or not having a baby – even supposing you might be pregnant – without thinking carefully. Never make a decision like that from peevishness, in case you regret it. You can't bring a baby back from **between**."

Z'linda hunched her shoulders.

"Don't be so fardling logical, T'lan" she growled. "I KNOW I'm being peevish. Just let me peeve it out of my system and then I can think clearly and be back to my sunny-natured self, all right?"

T'lana laughed.

"Very well, dear one" she agreed. "But get Zith to call Adeth back before sundown. Don't sleep on it."

Z'linda stuck out her tongue; but she nodded.

II

When Adeth relayed the message from Zith, Z'kan was very much in two minds; but he decided to accept the invitation. Z'linda was, after all, an attractive and spirited girl and her shrewishness seemed to be directed solely at him. Z'kan's general experience of female dragonriders was not encouraging; and he found the women of High Reaches refreshing and exciting. However, he was not without reservations, and so it was that when he met with Z'linda he opened with the repressive monosyllable,

"Well?"

Z'linda almost fled at that point, and visibly quailed. Z'kan added more gently,

"I have come to your summons, you see, weyrwoman."

She looked for mockery in his form of address, but found none, and launched rather haltingly into her explanation.

"I was unfair, Z'kan" she began, "and I want to tell you why. It's because my family were bullied by a Brown rider in T'kul's time, and my sister may have been raped, and it was all very frightening." She finished in a rush.

Z'kan scowled.

"Can't you tell one Brown rider from another?"

"Behind a dragon that's flaming to show us that they can? Frankly no!" She scowled back. He pulled a face.

"I see your point. But I've never been involved in anything like that. Shards, girl, can't you tell the difference between a man of honour and an inadequate who needs to bully?"

"I was only a little girl, Z'kan" she managed not to shout. "How do you expect a child to remember details beyond fear and its source?"

"I suppose not." He conceded. "Look, why don't you visit your sister, find out the details, and I'll do what I can to redress the balance?"

"Why would you?" she was wary.

"It is something I might be able to do something about – I wasn't able to do anything about the behaviour of my fellows before we were banished."

"Didn't you speak up at all?"

He stared at her in surprise.

"Of course not! I'm only a Brown rider. I doubt T'ron even knew I existed, beyond knowing my position in the Wing. He'd certainly have taken no criticism from me."

"You see?" this time her volume did rise. "That's what I'm saying. You Oldtimers have an in-built arrogance that segregates people by rank and size of dragon. If T'ron would think YOU lowly, a dragonman, doesn't that explain how he and T'kul could discount those without dragons as less than nothing? Why, T'bor knows the names and troubles of all the people in the Weyr, down to the drudges – he's not as good as Pilgra, but he does do his duty by people, even if he DOES keep notes to remind himself! THAT'S what being a leader is about."

Z'kan took half a step backwards from the onslaught of her words that almost had a physical presence. She had, he reflected, a very good point. He said,

"I hear what you say. But we were brought up to formality and respect. By the end of the Pass, everyone was tired, and often bad tempered; and discipline was all that kept us going. There were few enough dragonriders who had not spent their entire adult lives fighting Thread. And then when it was over, I don't think it was unreasonable to expect a certain amount of gratitude. But the arrogance of the small holders particularly was just incredible – now they needed us no longer, they just whined continually about how expensive it was to keep dragons. You must understand how that affected our attitudes towards them!"

She grimaced.

"Yes, I can see that – I do feel that I'm owed a certain respect for risking my skin for the folks on the ground, and I do expect them to do their share with the ground-sweeps. As my family have always done EVEN through the Long Interval. We've always heeded the teaching songs and we always respected dragonfolk. Father always said that T'kul was just a mad buck, and the bad times would pass."

"And of course if T'kul had been there before the crisis, he would have known that, known that your family were reliable. Under Fax, that must have been hard."

She shrugged.

"We're a very self sufficient family. We've survived Fax, T'kul and Meron and come out of it well. We're both lucky – and good at surviving. I just don't understand, though, how come you opted to go off with the other Oldtimers to Southern instead of staying and working with T'bor."

He shrugged.

"I swore an oath to follow T'ron wherever he went. It was easy when we first came Forward – he was dashing and full of boyish enthusiasm for the enterprise. I'd be a fine man to desert him just because the following got harder."

"Shells, you mean it's because you're stubborn and pig-headed as well as arrogant?" she blurted.

He stiffened; then his mouth twitched as he saw the funny side.

"If you like to put it that way" he said. "But most people have more tact."

She flushed, and muttered an apology, staring at her feet. He raised her chin gently and looked down at her.

"We've made a bad start, Z'linda" he told her, "But I'm going to come back and see you again – and Adeth is going to come back to see Zith" she made an inarticulate noise of half-protest and he shushed her. "And you ARE going to find out about that Brown rider for me, aren't you?"

Dumbly she nodded. Shells, the man was autocratic as well!

"Zith makes her own choice" she managed. He grinned.

"Well, I shall just have to make sure I persuade her to choose Adeth, won't I?" he said. "She won't, you know, if you really dislike the idea – deep down where it counts" and he left her, blushing furiously for she knew not what reason.

III

Z'linda managed a visit to her sister within the next week, squeezing it in around her duties. Lindanna was overjoyed to see her little sister, and to meet Zith; the young Green dragon had all the attention she could have asked for from her rider's nieces and nephews; and Z'linda noticed with some surprise that she could pick out the one who had rider potential although he was still very small. She explained that she had met someone who was trying to redress some of the wrongs of the Oldtimers – for some reason she was chary about mentioning Z'kan in more detail – and asked Lindanna if it would be painful to her to talk about her experiences with the Brown rider. To her surprise, her sister laughed!

"Oh he was a right one!" she declared. "All squeak and no substance! Yes, to be sure he tried it on – even got as far as taking his trousers down once; but I was sitting down and he was standing up, so I bit it."

"You mean his…" Z'linda put her hand to her mouth as she giggled.

"Precisely." her sister nodded. "Seemed to cool his ardour. Of course, he threatened retribution – but we produce the best milk that's tithed to the Weyr, and he wasn't too keen on raising his Weyrwoman's ire by losing that if anything happened to us!" she grinned. "Father was quite matter of fact about it in explaining the economics to him. I think it made a greater impression than if he had shown the anger that he was feeling."

Z'linda had a lot to think about; but she did ascertain that the rider's name was P'ren. He had, after all, tried to take her sister, and had maybe succeeded with less feisty girls. She rode home after Lindanna had fed her in a pensive mood; and slept on what she had discovered before asking Zith to bespeak Adeth.

As it happened, Z'kan took an equally dim view of a failed rape as a successful attempt; and applauded Lindanna's bravery. Z'linda felt just a little irritable that he should be lauding to the skies her sister, whom he had never met. After all, she had behaved with reasonable calmness during the time that the Holdless ruffians had abducted her, T'lana, L'rilly and Y'lara! And she felt that her cousin had been even braver than Lindanna in submitting to rape to save the rest of them and protect their dragons from crossbow bolts. Goaded, she said so.

Z'kan had not heard the story; and encouraged her to tell him. He smiled to himself at her partisan defence of T'lana, but agreed with Z'linda's contention that she had been truly heroic. Privately he thought that all the girls had shown remarkable courage and presence of mind to conceal their status to protect their dragons. Many would have called in their partners – and if the men had got off a lucky shot, well! It did not bear thinking about! He appreciated Z'linda's honesty in her confession of pure terror, and said,

"Sometimes it takes more courage to accept a passive role than to act. I suppose the trick is to know when is the right time for which. But I WILL find this P'ren and have…words with him" he grinned, rather nastily. "Of course, I'd not kill him – for the sake of his dragon. But his dragon won't suicide if he's at all…mauled."

Z'linda raised an eyebrow; but Z'kan refused to enlarge upon his intentions. He was not entirely sure himself just what he intended to do; it depended very much what he found out. He took his leave of her formally; and departed.

Back on Southern, Z'kan sought out P'ren. By asking around the folk of Southern Hold it appeared that his manners had not improved, and Z'kan had to listen to several complaints of his behaviour. Most girls living on this challenging continent were well able to take care of themselves and had escaped his finer attentions, but there were one or two unhappy tales. Z'kan's desire to meet P'ren grew.

The meeting was of P'ren's choosing. He sought out Z'kan, asking,

"I hear you were looking for me."

"Yes, that is correct" Z'kan was at his most formal. "I have received a number of complaints about your behaviour, Brown rider, with particular reference to the way you treat women."

P'ren actually laughed.

"Oh, women always complain about nothing." He declared airily. "Why they should fuss about performing their natural function, especially when honoured by being picked by a dragonrider I don't know. Probably to get attention. A way of boasting about who they've attracted."

Z'kan ground his teeth.

"If you truly believe that, you are one sick individual" he asseverated. "But I don't think you do believe it. I think that you are trying to excuse your bad behaviour and cover for the fact that you can't get a girl to bed with you willingly. I contend that you have bad breath and undersized organs with bite marks on them."

The other man gasped. The insults were pointed and uncompromising.

"I'll fight you for that!" he growled.

"Good" Z'kan smiled. It was not a pretty smile.

The outcome of the fight was never in much doubt from the moment it started. Z'kan prided himself on his fighting skills, and soon knew he could end the fight in a manner of his own choosing. He felt it poetic to strike in a discouraging sort of region and brought his knife in low, travelling a precise distance upwards. P'ren howled in anguish, and Z'kan was well satisfied. He knew he had made another enemy; but was frankly unconcerned. His uncompromising moral standards of honour had made him more than a few, in the old time as well as in the present, and as his daughter was safe from attack, he cared little. He asked Adeth to relay to Zith the information that some justice had been meted out; and resolved to try to stay away from Z'linda for a while in the hopes that his absence would make her miss him.

IV

Meanwhile the young female riders of High Reaches Weyr were discovering that being female had a few disadvantages. Some of those riders of Brown and Blue dragons who did NOT prefer boys seemed to consider that A'ira and Z'linda had been provided by the universe for their personal satisfaction; and their attentions could be wearing. (Nobody even considered making a play for Y'lara. Her seabred temper and invective were too notorious.) A'ira replied firmly to any overtures that she already had a weyrmate, thank you; and made sure to be around R'cal or his extended family for added protection. Z'linda could not, however, truthfully claim to have an attachment, and had to fend off a number off eager men who knew that Zith would rise with the monotonous regularity that characterised Green dragons. Indeed, there were even visitors from Fort Weyr; the most persistent being one S'lonag, rider of Brown Fierth. T'lana told Z'linda as the girls undertook an inventory for Keerana that she had come across S'lonag in an oblique fashion when she had been investigating the rape of the blind girl, Seela. Fierth had been one of the dragons involved in the mating flight with Green Ninth, and his rider was rabidly opposed to the idea of being with another man.

"However, I know nothing against him" T'lana told Z'linda. "It was a Blue rider, T'kar, who was the culprit; he also has inhibitions concerning his Someth's tastes."

Z'linda grunted. T'kar had come calling, but she had got rid of him by pretending that the sweet oil he habitually smoothed his hair down with made her sneeze. He had found trying to kiss her while she sneezed in his face rather off-putting. T'lana might know nothing against S'lonag, but she, Z'linda, didn't like him. She could find no reason why she did not like him; and had not liked to send him packing without good reason. She had been tipped off about T'kar by a lower cavern woman who had transferred from Fort; he was well known to be, as the woman described it, abrupt. Besides, Z'linda had already noted that the man bit his nails; and felt that this indicated a lack of self-respect. Meanwhile, S'lonag was quite urbane, witty and charming. Many of the lower cavern women had already started ribbing Z'linda about getting such a catch, better looking and SO much more obliging than Z'kan. Z'linda had to agree that he was all of that, but for some reason her agreement seemed to lack conviction.

S'lonag was waiting outside when Z'linda had finished helping T'lana.

"So how's the loveliest girl on Pern?" he asked. Z'linda looked at him levelly.

"I do not admire hyperbole" she said, having asked the young Weyrharper L'gal for the correct term for this extravagant form of praise. S'lonag gave her a slightly fixed smile, and she guessed he'd never heard the word before.

"It's a lovely day for the time of year" he persevered. "What say you that we take a picnic to some quiet spot and have fun this afternoon?"

Z'linda repressed a shudder at the word 'picnic'.

"I have duties" she said firmly. "Besides, I'm not sure I want to go out alone with you. It's nothing personal, but I don't think you're my type." She was careful to be conciliatory and polite, keeping in mind her poor start with Z'kan. Even so, S'lonag's face darkened, and an ugly look crossed it. It was quickly gone, and Z'linda almost wondered if she had imagined it.

"Z'linda, how can you say that when you scarcely know me?" his tone was light and teasing. "I just want to correct that omission."

"I'd rather get to know you in an everyday environment" she told him firmly. "Here in the Weyr, not gallivanting off on private gathers."

He laughed.

"Why of course, my dear funny one!" he said, smiling at her. It bothered Z'linda that his smile reached no higher than his well shaped lips. She could not help thinking of Z'kan, who rarely smiled with more than a quirk at the corner of his mouth, but whose eyes crinkled up when he was amused or happy. It came to her as a sudden revelation that he and R'gar were not dissimilar people; grim on the surface, cultivating a reputation for touchiness; and could he be as kind and gentle underneath as she knew her cousin's Lover to be? He was certainly adored by his daughter. Z'linda felt rather uncomfortable thinking about some of the things she had said to Z'kan. In the meantime, however, S'lonag was looking quizzically at her. She forced a smile of her own.

"I'm happy to get to know you, S'lonag" she said firmly, "But on my terms, and with the understanding that there's nothing proprietorial. I am not 'your' anything, funny or otherwise. I hope that's clear?"

This time the look which flashed across his face was unmistakably ugly; and her own face must have shown her consternation for he smiled again in an apologetic fashion.

"I'm so sorry, Z'linda" he said. "I did not mean to get irritable. You just awaken such a passion in my breast that I want to express it." His voice was deep and sounded very sincere, but Z'linda was almost literally backing off. How often had she dreamed of a handsome man – and a dragonrider at that! - Professing undying passion for her in just such a manner. Yet here was the situation she had imagined, almost exactly and with the added advantage of having her own dragon to share through, and there was something wrong.

"I don't think this is the time or place to talk of such things" she was trying to extricate herself from him as he took her hand. From the corner of her eye she saw that Adeth had come in to land; and after a quick look in her direction, Z'kan had strode past her and into the kitchen. Drat the man, why couldn't he come and interrupt?

Z'kan had decided to drop by and see how his daughter was, and also see Z'linda. He had missed her shouting at him, of all things. However, when he arrived she was deep in what appeared to be a most intimate conversation with a younger, better looking man than he who was leaning towards her possessively. Z'kan strode into the kitchen, not wanting to look at the sight any longer.

"Z'linda's got a new boyfriend, has she?" he asked nonchalantly of one of Calla's daughters. The girl nodded eagerly.

"Yes, lucky girl!" she told him. "He's MOST particular in his attentions, comes over from Fort every time his duties permit it!"

"Good looking" he commented.

"Oh yes, and such lovely manners too! I wish he'd notice me. I can't think why she hasn't taken him to her weyr yet!"

"She hasn't?" Z'kan kept his tone neutral, trying not to sound hopeful. The girl giggled.

"Maybe she's keeping him dangling to make sure of him" she dimpled. "Perhaps he'll not dangle too long – then the rest of us will have a look in."

Z'kan made a non-committal noise, and returned the way he had come. S'lonag was still there with Z'linda, talking caressingly to her, promising to charm her out of her unhappy mood. Z'linda was rapidly losing her patience, but unsure how to extricate herself without being rude – and to a rider from another Weyr who might complain to T'bor and give High Reaches a bad name. She caught Z'kan's eye and he read the plea in it. He walked up to the two.

"C'mon, Girl, you can't dally all day with your fancy man" he growled. "I haven't got that much time to wait on your convenience you know."

"And who" asked S'lonag "The fardling shards are you?"

Z'kan put on his best supercilious look.

"Your elder, for one, puppy" he snarled. "And probably your better at that."

S'lonag flushed.

"You might have some authority over Z'linda, but you've none over me. I'm from Fort; and I'll be asking if Z'linda can transfer there too."

Z'kan froze; but Z'linda said quietly,

"And I'd refuse the transfer unless my Weyrleader wanted rid of me. And he's not complained yet. I like High Reaches."

S'lonag turned to her.

"My dear, I thought you'd like it. I thought this man was bullying you."

"He is. I'm used to it. I prefer it to your mooning about after me" she was finally sick of it, ready to fall back on her native bluntness. S'lonag looked furious.

"Are you refusing me? ME?" he was incredulous. She sighed.

"I've been trying to refuse you since you started. I was just trying to be tactful about it" she said. "If you hadn't got the hide of a geriatric Wher, you'd have realised" she added, "I'm at your disposal, Z'kan. Shall we depart?"

Z'linda walked across the bowl with Z'kan while Fierth swooped in to pick up the fuming S'lonag.

"I'm told" said Z'kan carefully "That he's the answer to a maiden's dreams, and anyone who turned him down would be foolish."

Z'linda made a rude noise.

"He's very charming, I grant you" she said. "And I suppose – well, yes, he's very handsome. But – but there's something I can't quite put my finger on….and he seems to lose his charm when he's thwarted in any way."

Z'kan nodded.

"A lovely fellow providing you don't cross him. It's a description I've heard before, and I'd say it defines a bully quite well."

Z'linda nodded.

"I see what you mean. Oh dear, but now I've lost my cool and been rude to him!"

He stared at her.

"Coming from you, that's rich. What are you to me?"

"That's different."

He looked a query. She continued,

"He's an outsider. He could damage the reputation of the Weyr. And I was trying so hard to be good, especially as I'd behaved so badly to you" her face was woebegone. He laughed gently.

"I think you've actually given me a compliment!" he said; and when she looked up at him questioningly, he told her, "You implied that I'm NOT an outsider."

She gave him a watery smile.

"You sort of belong to the Logicators" she told him. "And you're Zaira's father; and she's got definite plans for our H'llon."

"HAS she now!" he was taken aback.

Z'linda laughed.

"He'll be the last to know, of course. He's so naïve and modest! I tried to win his attention myself at first, but he didn't even notice. And I didn't think I'd persevere. He's only going to get involved with the right woman; and I guess it'll be after Melth catches a certain un-hatched Queen."

"Well he's a good hearted lad" mused Z'kan. "He takes good care of her. She could do a lot worse" he added, "Do you want me to see T'bor and tell him that it was I who disgruntled prettyboy?"

She shook her head.

"I'll go the back route through T'lana. But I was trying!"

He laughed.

"Very!" He said.

V

Z'kan was privately delighted that Z'linda thought him a safe sort of person to shout at; it suggested an acceptance of him that had been at times belied by her words. He decided not to push the issue, and having told her that he was glad to have been on hand to rescue her from a boring young puppy, went off in search of his daughter.

Z'linda felt vaguely cheated that he had left her. She did not grudge the time Zaira had with her father – she herself liked to visit her parents from time to time – but she had half suspected the man of coming to visit her too. She took Zith across the Bowl for an oiling next to Adeth.

"_Adeth is happy to visit me"_ the young Green informed her. _"He likes me. I might just let him catch me another time."_

"That's if he just happens to be around next time you rise." Z'linda said. "He might not be, you know. Z'kan has his own duties – even if most of the duties in Southern consist of serious study of the effect of sunbathing and the scientific study of whether it is more efficient to lie on your back with legend scroll in your right hand scratching your balls with your left, or whether it is better to sometimes hold the scroll in your left hand and scratch your balls with the right."

"Definitely the latter." She jumped as Z'kan spoke, having come up quietly from the other side of Adeth. The well-grown Brown snorted, and Z'linda 'heard' the buzz that indicated that dragon and rider were communicating. She had not so well developed a sense as T'lana but lived in hopes that a child of hers would be more fortunate. Indeed, it was something she wanted to talk to the Brown rider about – and he did not seem to have taken offence at her description of Southern Weyr activities. In fact he remarked,

"Adeth has just told me that he doubts many Southern dragonriders could raise enough energy to do any two things together, even in a prone position!"

Z'linda laughed, then said,

"Z'kan, can I talk to you?"

"You are talking to me, weyrwoman."

She stamped her foot.

"Don't be irritating!" she flared.

"I'm listening" he was serious in an instant. "It's as private here as anywhere."

She dug her toe into the mud by the lake's edge.

"If I'm pregnant" she began carefully "- not that I'm certain – I'd want the baby to be brought up here in High Reaches. I was….tactless about it before…"

"One way of describing it." He murmured. She frowned a little.

"But I meant most of it." She said. "You've protected Zaira – but could you guarantee to always be around for another youngling? And she had some of her life, the early years that count most, when people around her were behaving as dragonmen should. How would the attitudes that prevail now affect a small child?"

He mulled her words carefully, a frown of concentration on his face. She drew back from him, thinking him angry. He noticed her set shoulders; and said testily,

"I'm just thinking, girl. Do you think I'm going to offer you violence?"

Her chin came up.

"You did shake me once."

"I was out of line. I apologise. I was still caught up in the backwash of dragonfeeling" he added, "Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head.

"I would not hurt you on purpose" he told her. "Or a child of mine. I think you could be right about the upbringing at Southern being detrimental. I just didn't want to have a baby fostered by strangers."

"You great idiot!" she cried, shaking her head at him. "I'd have any babies I have fostered by Lanelly – she's wonderful with them, and it would keep it in the family too!"

Z'kan was more or less acquainted with the ramifications of T'lana's family, though not knowing the full story of Sagarra he assumed that Lanelly was R'gar's mother or milk-mother. He nodded, satisfied.

"Are you going to keep a baby if there is one?" he asked, trying not to let any clues to his feelings show in his voice. He sighed happily when she nodded.

"I may have very few breeding years" she told him. "And my family seems good material; I can tell WHEN dragons are talking, though I can't hear them and I was hoping that any children I have will have more of the talent, like T'lana.

"I don't know what talent T'lana has" he told her. She looked surprised.

"Oh, I thought everyone knew that, now. T'lana hears all dragons. She co-ordinates" she explained. He looked impressed.

"And you have this in a lesser form? Then it would be a great thing if your children had it too" he added, "But if you are carrying my child, it would not matter to me if he or she had any talent at all or even if he Impressed or not. I'd still ask to see my child and love him, or her."

Z'linda was looking at him with a strange expression on her face. In the light of her earlier ruminations on his similarities to R'gar, this softer streak was almost uncanny. She sniffed firmly, nodded, and said,

"That's all settled then" and returned to oiling Zith determinedly.

VI

As time passed, there were frequent visits from Fort riders, including S'lonag, who hung around Z'linda scowling at any other riders who came close. Z'linda told him that his presence was unwelcome; but he only laughed and said,

"You'll change your mind. Besides, you'd better get used to it; I've asked to move here."

Z'linda stared at him in dismay.

"Excuse me" she muttered, and fled to find T'lana.

T'lana told Z'linda bluntly that she would have to see T'bor herself and explain the situation; and with some trepidation, the girl made an appointment to see the Weyrleader. To her surprise he was very ready to listen to her tale, told rather haltingly, of S'lonag's unwanted attentions. T'bor knew better than most how the balance of a Weyr could be upset by the emotional vagaries of its members, and he promised to refuse N'ton if he passed on S'lonag's request. Z'linda was much relieved, and she startled T'bor by kissing him on the cheek and calling him a perfect sweetie.

S'lonag did not seem to take his disappointment as a serious bar to his visits to High Reaches, and T'bor grumbled that the young man seemed to have virtually moved in. he asked N'ton to do something about it; and whilst N'ton promised to have a word, he said that he could scarcely forbid his riders from visiting High Reaches without a good reason. The irritation of a Green rider – touchy lot anyway – was not in N'ton's book a good enough reason. T'bor sighed, and tried to find ways to discourage S'lonag ranging from having him served cold Klah to arranging for the weyrlings to have an early snow-fight where the man was bound to pass on his determined pursuit of Z'linda. On this occasion he was able to take S'lonag to task for losing his temper with a weyrling whose snowball had caught the Brown rider full in the face. T'bor had been lying in wait, and as soon as the man started twisting the child's arm, he erupted from his weyr to send him about his business and forbid him to enter the Weyr again except on business. R'gar had joined them, and grunted agreement. He would not have his boys bullied!

S'lonag had to test his ingenuity to engineer legitimate business thereafter, and Z'linda was grateful. He managed, however, to be there often enough to test her mood; and one day Z'linda found herself unable to prevent herself from screaming at him,

"JUST GO AWAY!"

S'lonag grinned.

"So she's ready to rise again" he said, satisfied. "The best way to hurry that up is to excite her, you know; and if you're already with someone, why then, his dragon's more likely to catch her. That'll give him an edge another time; and he can be satisfied without me having to avoid those girl-boys."

"I doubt if even dragonlust would excite me if you were involved" Z'linda said scornfully. "You have the sexual appeal for me of second-hand Fellis."

His face darkened in fury, and he pursed his lips.

"You'll change your mind" he told her. "But you'll force her up at this point by the very act" he grabbed her arm, and pushed her towards the empty Queen's weyr. He had been adroit in steering her close before she realised his intentions, but she fought and bit at him. He slapped her, hard.

"You can make this easy or hard on yourself" he told her grimly. "She's very close – she didn't even come to your defence because she's confused about the feelings she has herself. All I have to do is get your body involved, and it's all mine and Fierth's."

Z'linda bit him again, hard; she was determined to make him keep hurting her so Zith would resolve the conflict of her own sexuality and refuse to rise while her rider was distressed. Zith was indeed calling, and questioning Z'linda's feelings even as her own desires threatened to carry her away.

"_**GET ADETH!"**_ Z'linda screamed mentally, and she felt the fuddled little Green reach out for her first suitor.

Adeth informed his rider that he had had a most peculiar message from Zith.

"_I think she is about to rise."_ he said. Z'kan finished his business in the necessary in record time and leaped onto Adeth's back.

"Get there!" he yelled. Adeth did not need to be told twice.

T'lana had seen that S'lonag and Z'linda had both disappeared, and that Zith was hovering about the feeding grounds indecisively. She made her way to the empty Queen's weyr, her arrival coinciding with Adeth's appearance from **between**. She directed him to land by the weyr and almost pulled Z'kan off and inside. Adeth took off for the feeding ground.

Inside, Z'linda was beginning to be affected by Zith's increasing lust; and S'lonag was carried away by Fierth's interest. She was resisting the feeling with all her might, when the weight from her increasingly uncontrolled body was violently lifted. She opened her tear filled eyes.

"OH! It's YOU!"

Her tone was very different from the last time she had uttered similar words and she writhed happily at Z'kan.

"There is no decision until the dragons join." T'lana said, inexorably. "Shame on you S'lonag! I'll be saying more to you later!"

Other riders filed into the weyr in more or less controlled fashions as their dragons watched Zith. Now Z'linda was relaxed, Zith knew exactly what she wanted. T'lana wondered briefly whether to cheat, and trickle her intentions to Adeth; but decided to let nature take its course. Unless, of course, Fierth looked like winning the little dragon.

Zith growled at her suitors one more time, and took off! It was definitely a two dragon chase, Fierth a Benden bred Brown, but Adeth big for his time, strong and well developed; and having flown Zith once before. Zith liked Adeth; she did not like Fierth, and nor did her rider like his. She jinked left and right, then right again, employing every trick she had learned from Mirrith. It had been very obliging of the golden Queen to pass on these tricks! Zith did not know that T'lana had suggested to Mirrith that the right dragon would have a better chance if Zith knew a ploy or two; and Mirrith had unbent enough to chat to the little Green. Not that Mirrith was particularly stand-offish anyway; but Segrith was inclined to remind her that if you were giving the orders, it didn't do to be too chatty in case orders were queried and it killed someone. Segrith had, for a dragon, a remarkable grasp of consequences.

As Zith played her games, most of her suitors were lost. Few Greens had any subtleties and they were not used to it. Fierth was also confused, and angry. Green dragons were supposed to be straightforward! Only Adeth was now a serious contender. He was experienced enough a dragon to accept any peculiarities, and had besides tried occasionally for Queens on account of his size.

Finally he had her, his superior size and strength telling; and with his neck about hers, he brought her home.

Z'linda surrendered to Z'kan joyfully, making happy little noises into his chest as T'lana shooed the rest of the riders away. S'lonag she did not shoo away. She led him by the ear to T'bor.

Z'kan and Z'linda knew nothing of S'lonag's chewing out and threatened punishments; they were too wrapped up in each other and their dragons. And when they finally awoke in full possession of their senses, Z'linda turned into Z'kan's chest and held him fiercely.

"Do you like me better this time?" he asked. She nodded, blushing fiercely.

"What a fool I was!" she said. "This could all have been decided last time and there'd not have been that creature S'lonag!"

"I'm going to skin him alive!" declared Z'kan, vehemently.

"Get in the queue" she growled. "If I'd had my knife on me…"

He kissed her.

"Perhaps as well you didn't" he said. "You'd have felt bad about his dragon if you'd killed him."

She considered; and nodded.

"I wasn't winning; but I wasn't losing" she told him. "I was holding Zith back. Then you came." She gazed up at him. "I never realised, but I think I love you!" she declared, sounding surprised. He laughed, joyfully.

"And I know I love you. Of course, with the completeness of having a dragon, there can be no loneliness; but company of one's own kind….especially when we can share our dragon's feelings" tenderly he smoothed one of her curls from her face. She sighed contentedly and snuggled.

"And we can share something more" she told him. "I'm now certain of what I only suspected before – we're going to have a baby!"

He held her to him; and knew that no man could be happier!


	4. Chapter 4

Rillys summer 2521 – 1-14-2522

I

Sagarra and Amrys felt that it was about time that Amrys's mother Rillys remarried; and they discussed various possible candidates.

"What about that harper, Ferdal, that your father thought she was in love with?" asked Sagarra. Amrys shuddered a little, remembering the terrible time when Holder Derrinik had condemned her and her mother to be drudges and caused the early birth and subsequent death of her baby brother. She considered Sagarra's suggestion seriously, though, then wrinkled her nose.

"Well…" she said, "I suppose he was kind enough, but he was a bit boring….and he used to pat me on the head and call me 'dear little girl'."

"Uggh, GROSS!" Declared Sagarra. "Right, scrub him. Does she know anyone else suitable?"

Amrys shook her head.

"Derrinik wouldn't let her know anyone. All the men she's met that aren't underlings are dragonmen."

Sagarra digested this thoughtfully.

"It has possibilities" she mused. "And if she had a dragonman as a mate, she could come to the Weyr when you're old enough to Hold in your own right which would be nearby for you."

Amrys considered.

"I like all the dragonmen I've met" she conceded. "What about H'llon? He's fun."

Sagarra gave a whoop of laughter.

"H'llon? Don't be daft. HE'd not notice she was a woman if she stripped and hit him over the head with her breasts. And I'm not too sure if he'd catch on then" she added meditatively. H'llon's innocence was a Weyr joke, and Sagarra always seemed to know more than T'lana and R'gar felt strictly necessary; but wheedling and eavesdropping were the specialities of the self-sufficient nine year old. Amrys made another suggestion.

"K'len? He's a friend of your parents too."

"Mmmm… I like K'len, but I don't think he's really suited to just one girl" said Sagarra, regretfully. "Besides, I might just decide to have him when I'm grown up. He's good fun and he knows where all the best fishing tarns are."

"The best ones are taken" sighed Amrys. "If T'lana was only a traditional Weyrwoman instead of staying with your father, we could really be sisters."

Sagarra scowled.

"I'm glad she's not traditional then" she declared. "She's a better sort of mother than anyone, even yours!"

There was a brief scuffle at this point over the relative merits of parents and foster parents; but by the time the girls had returned to the Hold to be scolded by Rillys for their torn clothes they had genuinely forgotten what the fight had been over, and Rillys gave up trying to find out.

II

Rillys was blissfully unaware that her future was being taken care of for her, and the significance of the succession of visits from unattached male dragonriders as invited by Sagarra passed her by. K'len in fact had a Word with the little girl to put a stop to these tactics.

"Give her time to settle" he told her, much to Sagarra's chagrin; she had not realised that her artfully worded invitations via the firelizards had been interpreted! K'len added, "For one thing, it's bad for Hold and Weyr to have these continual traffickings; and for another, Rillys may not yet be ready to trust another man. How would you have settled with T'lan if you thought she was a foster mother not a big brother figure?"

Sagarra nodded thoughtfully. K'len was quite right. She had trusted T'lan as a weyrling, not as a parent, and had not minded when she found out only because she had learned to trust again.

"I never thought of that" she told him gravely. "I say, K'len, do you like Rillys?"

K'len gave a shout of laughter.

"You're so like T'lan…. Let it go, Scruffbag, and let her find her own man. Out of the Weyr. Hold and Weyr don't mix. Look at Kylara." He ended seriously. Sagarra pulled a face. Life was so complicated! K'len ruffled her hair, pulled her nose gently and went to deliver the message from T'lana to Rillys with which he had been sent.

Rillys had, in fact, been giving some thought to her situation as an unattached female. She was a very eligible prize, she knew, especially if it was not realised that she Held as Lady Warder for her daughter. It seemed sensible therefore to arrange for herself a marriage which would be both advantageous, and keep away any potential fortune hunters. Rillys did not feel sensible. Surely she could not be blamed for wanting a little romance after the dreadful marriage she had been tied to before? Rillys longed to have something akin to the relationship T'lana shared with R'gar, though she was realistic enough to realise that as this was dragon enhanced such a closeness was for her unlikely. However, she did hope for some kind of loving partnership, and felt it a not unreasonable dream. She recalled the sympathy of the harper Ferdal and wondered whether to request that he be transferred back to Rivenhill hold.

Rillys considered the subject of Ferdal very deeply. On the positive side he had been an amusing companion and kind to her and Amrys. Of course by comparison with her bully of a husband, almost any offhand compassion would seem kind, but he had gentle eyes. He was good looking and talented, and also understood the rudiments of economics.

On the negative side, if she invited him back, unpleasant rumours would be bound to blossom, like weeds on a dung heap, which could only harm her daughter and put a strain on the discipline she had brought to bear on the Hold. Moreover, it would be very embarrassing if she did so, and he returned with the not unreasonable expectation of a more intimate relationship growing; and she found that her feelings towards him were less warm than he was hoping. Indeed, Rillys was at least half-certain that her romantic attachment to him had only stemmed from her desperation in her lonely, unloved situation, not from any genuine love for the man. She had scarcely thought about him since she had been at the Weyr, and, she thought guiltily, not at all since returning to Rivenhill. There had been so much to do to get the place a happy, working Hold again that she had had little time for thinking about anything else, bar the welfare of the girls. Yet she should have been reminded of him a dozen times a day as she passed places where they had spent time together. One of their favourite walks had been in the herb garden; but all that now made her think of was the attempt her daughter and fosterling had made to make perfume, and their horrified faces at the dreadful smell which had resulted! Rillys chuckled to herself at the thought of the two pulling faces at that muck!

Rillys resolved her dilemma with the decision to visit Lord Deckter with a report on Rivenhill. She knew that Ferdal was staying there, and could meet him on neutral ground. She would then gain some idea about what her true feelings towards him might be.

III

Ferdal was delighted when he heard that the Lady Rillys was visiting Nabol. He hurried to the audience hall to meet her as she left Deckter's presence. Rillys had been prepared for this, and smiled at him in a friendly fashion.

"Harper Ferdal – nice to see you again! I trust you have recovered from the ill treatment afforded you by Derrinik?"

He bowed deeply.

"I thank you, lady, yes. But you – you suffered far more at the hands of that evil creature."

Rillys made herself shrug. She preferred not to dwell on those days.

"It is over" she said with a calm she could not yet quite feel. "I have been busy reshaping the Hold morally, to restore an atmosphere of normality. I shall have, of course, to apply to Master Robinton for another harper."

"But Lady!" he expostulated, "Surely it will be most convenient if I was the one to return!" Ferdal was puzzled by her formality. Certainly she had always treated him in a formal manner before he had been ejected from Rivenhill; but that had been a protection, armour on her part to prevent herself from behaving incorrectly. Surely, thought the Harper, she could relax that now?

Rillys studied him carefully before speaking.

"Ferdal, I was very lonely then" she chose her words carefully. "And I may have read more into the situation than was in fact there. I may have said more than I should have. Be that as it may, there will be evil tongues to gossip if you should be the Harper at Rivenhill. It would be better if you took another assignment."

Ferdal stared, open-mouthed. He had been certain that she loved him! Perhaps she still did – it was just natural prudence that caused her to act this way.

"Shall I then visit sometime in the future?" He asked.

"No Ferdal." She told him.

"You give me no encouragement?" He was incredulous. She shook her head.

"I'm sorry. None whatsoever."

"Then… perhaps you will excuse me."

She nodded her head, and he swung round and left her, pushing past those idle enough to try to listen in on this potentially juicy piece of gossip.

Rillys hoped she had not hurt him too badly. She was almost certain from the expression on his face that his pride had been more deeply wounded than his heart, but even so it was better to hurt him now than hurt him more in the future. From the moment she had seen him, Rillys had known that she held him in gratitude and affection, but nothing more. It was not enough. One day he would find a girl who would adore him and admire – or share – his talent. She could not give him the constant adulation he needed; there was too much to do. And, as she had told him quite truthfully, it would give rise to unpleasant rumours if they were seen to be closely associated.

IV

Rillys intended staying at Nabol Hold for several days if Deckter was pleased to offer her hospitality; and he had said that she was to stay as long as she wanted. She had little hope of finding a suitable husband, but it would be as well to enter social life and meet people generally, so that any problems arising between her holders and those of other Holds could be, hopefully, settled amicably through personal meetings with other offended parties. With this end in mind, Rillys decided to stay the three days that would cover the Gather. This should ensure that she would meet most of the prominent people from Nabol, and a few from Ruatha and High Reaches who would come for the small race meeting. It was very cold but had not snowed; and she knew that the Runner owners would be hoping that this situation would continue so that the going would be hard, not slushy or worse, impassable for snowdrifts.

As owners and Holders started to arrive for the Gather, Rillys mingled with them to chat. Naturally shy, this took all her courage, but she was lucky to meet an old acquaintance with whom she had been fostered, a young woman called Zeleika. Zeleika was herself a widow, having married an elderly Holder who had loved her dearly. Rillys was quick to sympathise when she heard the genuine regret and sorrow in her friend's voice; but Zeleika did not intend to mourn for too long. Her stepson was now the Holder, she told Rillys, and while he made her welcome, her husband had left her his Runner beasts, and she intended to become independent so that she would not cramp the style of her stepson and his new wife. Besides, she said, she had heard that an Owner of some renown named Tragen was a widower now, and might be interested in a merging of stock – and other things. She did not intend to remain inconsolable for life!

Rillys rather fancied that Zeleika would fall on her feet. As a girl she had always been cheerfully optimistic, and things had usually worked out for her. Tragen, Rillys knew from what T'lana had told her of one of her investigations, was a good man, if somewhat taciturn, and took great care of his animals. It was usually a good sign in a man. She wished Zeleika every luck; and let the young woman introduce her around. Zeleika had lost no time in getting to know everyone!

Rillys did not lack potential suitors. Her good looks and air of quiet dignity attracted a bevy of men ranging from a lovelorn and not very hopeful younger son of some fourteen turns up to an ageing wealthy Herder looking for a third wife. Rillys was polite but distant to all of them, preferring to keep all at a distance rather than risk making any mistakes. In truth, she was not attracted to any of them very much, though one younger cousin of Deckter's had a handsome face and a good air of address; and another man, a trader, had an attractive smile and an ease of manner that put her in mind of the cheeky ex trader D're. Even so, nothing seemed to make her heart beat faster. Perhaps, she reflected, she was too fussy.

V

It was at the gather that she was accosted by a most ill kempt looking man. She would have started fishing in her purse for a mark or two for an apparent beggar had not several things about the man been quite remarkable.

It was for one thing quite unknown for most beggars to have queen firelizards; and an exquisite little queen clung to the man's shoulder eyeing Rillys suspiciously. The man's appearance too was arresting. He was tall and well built, muscular, and would have been handsome but for the terrible Threadscoring down one side of his face. His eye seemed still to be functional; but in those eyes was such a desolation and loss that Rillys wanted to weep!

"I was wondering, lady, if you've any jobs going." He asked, levelly. His tone expected refusal.

Rillys blinked.

"You should not have to rely on odd jobs!" She exploded. "The debt we all owe you dragonmen, anyone should be GLAD to offer you succour if you've lost your greatest friend!"

The ghost of a barely cynical smile touched his lips.

"That's not a common outlook, lady." He said. "The Weyrs are expected to maintain us."

Rillys snorted.

"And put you through the pain of daily seeing other folks on dragons? Scarcely right or proper to force that on a man."

He stared at her in genuine amazement.

"You know about how it feels? And how did you know that I'm – I'm a – a …." His voice faltered; he could not bring himself to complete the words 'dragonless man'.

Rillys reached out a hand to touch his arm.

"No, I don't really KNOW." She said softly. "But I have stayed at High Reaches Weyr, and someone who was close to a friend of mine there lost his dragon. I would have to be very insensitive if I'd not picked up something of what it was about. And" she indicated her little bronze lizard, Star, "I imagine that to lose even his little presence in my head would be pretty devastating, never mind a life-partner like one of his great cousins." She avoided using the word 'dragon' seeing that it gave him pain. He dropped his eyes to his own exquisite queen.

"Aye, where I'd be without Silka here I don't know." His voice softened as he spoke to the little creature and rubbed her poll. She trilled adoringly at him. "Reckon she saved my sanity." He added.

"What is your name?" Asked Rillys.

"Corbin." He replied. "One time Brown rider."

"Then you shall come as my guest to my Hold, Corbin." Rillys told him. "If you wish to move on and seek work or if you wish to help out in the Hold, that will be as you will. But first I should like to see you healthy. Some of those scars are festering, you need feeding, and your hands look frost-bitten."

The ghost smile flitted again across his face.

"Yes ma'am." He concurred meekly.

"You will need better clothes against the cold." She said.

"You are prepared to dress me too?" He was astonished, and a little antagonistic, pride warring with need.

"It is easy to honour the dead with songs and drink for having given all to save us." She said tartly. "But you have given more than your life; and need the more honour for it." Rillys was intensely moved by this unfortunate man's plight, the more because she had known Sh'allen as Sh'len and then as Shirallen when Tath had died. He had stayed in the Weyr partly because he did not know where else to go and partly because the telepathic T'lana was able to be with him and help assuage some of the loneliness. Rillys knew this because T'lana had often cried over her friend's plight. T'lana had offered to take Shirallen to stay with her foster father and help him tend his smallholding to give him an interest in life out of the Weyr; and although he had now Impressed the deformed Warneth, Rillys knew from the gossip Amrys and Sagarra picked up that he was still considering this option. Warneth would be able to help the ground crews in the lush valley where Sarel bred his Runners. She hoped that this dragonless man, Corbin, would find solace in helping around the Hold – if he had skills suitable or was willing to learn – but she had no intention of letting him work until he was healthy, and told him so!

Corbin was almost in tears. All riders of course understood the enormity of what had happened to him; but most shunned him, unsure of what to say to him, perhaps full of superstitious fear that his loss might become theirs through association. Of course they would pooh-pooh such a suggestion – but why then did dragonmen so often find pressing business to attend to? And with fear mixed in with the pity in their eyes? Non riders just did not have any inkling. Even those with firelizards seemed to lack the imagination to picture the loss of the loving little creatures. Yet here was one who did understand – and understand almost too well, well enough to bring tearing into his mind the wrenching, shattering, sickening loss of Doroth, dear, dear Doroth who could never be with him again.

Corbin flung back his head and howled like a wild animal in agony. People turned and stared, and rapidly looked away, moved away, tried to ignore the man's pain. Murmurs of 'that crazy dragonless man' hissed around the Gather field and Rillys's ears burned in shame that so much heartlessness should be shown. She wanted to scream at them; but it would do no good. Instead she led Corbin to a table and sat him down.

"I'll get a meal." Her tone was matter of fact, and jerked him back somewhat to the present. He mumbled something incoherent, and set about wiping his face with an elderly handkerchief.

When Rillys returned with food and drink, he was able to accept it. He muttered,

"Thank you" and after a pause, "I'm sorry I embarrassed you."

"YOU didn't embarrass me." She told him crisply. "The attitudes of my fellow Holderfolk did, however. Corbin, do they always act like this?"

He nodded.

"Sometimes they club me unconscious to shut me up." He added matter-of-factly. Rillys was horrified. She had been brought up to always respect dragonmen, and her recent experiences at High Reaches Weyr had reinforced that. This offhand callousness shocked her profoundly.

"There will be nothing of that in my Hold." She said icily. "We hold by the traditions of respect for Weyrfolk. My fosterling is a dragonman's daughter."

"Lady, I'm not Weyrfolk." He told her, his voice rough. "Not any more."

"And that's an outlook that is wrong." Her lips were tight. "I shall go and talk to T'bor about it."

"Just like that." He murmured.

"And why not? He's always willing to listen, after all."

"IS he?"

"T'bor takes his position very seriously. He has responsibility to Weyr and Hold. He'll take a dim view of Weyrfolk – and you ARE Weyrfolk if only by courtesy now – being treated like this."

Corbin could do nothing but stare in amazement.

VI

Rillys decided not to delay in seeking out T'bor. She ensconced Corbin in the Hold near her own rooms and gave him the marks to outfit himself, whirling away before he could protest. She sought out a visiting dragon from High Reaches, and was pleased to find that R'cal and A'ira were there. The crusty Blue rider was happy to give Rillys a lift to the Weyr while A'ira remained with her children at the Gather; and soon she was talking to T'bor.

As Rillys had surmised, T'bor was not happy about the treatment accorded to dragonless men. However, he explained,

"As you say, it's cruelty in most cases to keep a man in the Weyr when his dragon is gone. But where else is he to go? Usually as far away from dragons as he can get. Few enough even welcome any interference from the Weyr, you have to be fardling tactful and watch all the time what you say. But out of the Weyr is the territory of Holderfolk, who cannot – and for the most part would not want to – understand. They perceive him as an outcast; and in a way he is, albeit voluntarily. We are, I'm afraid, mostly so scared that the same thing could happen to any of us, and so glad it's someone else that we feel guilty and so tend to ignore the problem. It's a fault; I admit it. But, Lady Rillys, I can't DO anything. I could offer him room here – which he'd refuse. But I can't change the way people feel, or tell Holderfolk to act in a different way. People are afraid of those who are mentally sick. You should see how some people treat the simple. They are also afraid of physical deformity – as you know from D're and his fair of brats. But mental defects can't be seen – and so are more frightening. I can put it to the other Weyrleaders that some of the tithing we accept should go towards caring for these people; perhaps we can establish a place to look after those who need it most." A shadow crossed his face, and belatedly Rillys remembered Kylara. Before she could apologise, T'bor continued, "But not all want that. Some – like Lytol, and like your friend Corbin – need to occupy themselves. If they're Craftbred, that's easier. Lytol returned to the Weavercraft of his youth. If we could persuade Crafters to train dragonless men in a trade of their choice, despite the rules of age for apprentices, we could perhaps do something practical. I will speak to F'lar." He smiled at her, though the smile was bleak; and Rillys thanked him very much and fled. She had a horrid feeling that the Weyrleader was close to tears, and she wanted him to be able to shed them in private.

Rillys returned to Nabol, thanking R'cal for his indulgence, and assuring him that his beloved granddaughter Sagarra was just fine.

"In fact" she said "I heard those two minxes planning to clean the entire of our quarters while I was away, so goodness knows what I shall return to find."

R'cal gave a crack of laughter.

"Somewhere between mayhem and disaster I should think" he suggested unsympathetically. "But it keeps them out of the hair of your steward – Markin, isn't he?"

Rillys nodded, and R'cal asked,

"How's it going?"

Rillys declined to prevaricate with R'cal. She had come to hold him in deep affection.

"It's been tough" she admitted. "There were times I wanted to run back to the Weyr. Some folk didn't like the idea of taking orders from a woman. The final straw came when a man swept dirt under a mat right in font of me, and when I remonstrated shrugged and said it didn't show."

"How did you deal with that?"

She laughed.

"I swept the dirt into a pan. He thought I was going to deal with it myself and watched with this really insolent smirk. I'm glad Sagarra wasn't there; she'd have gone for him. Anyway, I told him to follow me – and curiosity won over insolence." She grinned. "I emptied the lot in the middle of his bed, and informed him that it didn't show there, either."

R'cal guffawed.

"No more trouble?"

"No more trouble." Her expression was one of grim satisfaction. R'cal approved.

V11

Corbin had obviously spent his time while Rillys was away making the most of his appearance. He was clean and neatly dressed in dark blue, and he had cut as well as washed and combed his shoulder length black hair. It was now held back neatly in a discreet ribbon, and the tail dripped still down his back. Silka was making disapproving noises about the dampness of her nest, and removed herself ostentatiously to the inside of the wherhide jacket he now sported. Rillys noted that Zeleika had discovered him and was doing her best to find out about this once handsome dragonman – as she plainly thought him still to be.

Rillys was taken aback to find that she experienced a little spurt of anger that her old friend should be trying to fix her interest with Corbin. After all, why should she not?

The answer was uncomfortable.

"Because I want him." She acknowledged silently to herself. She went over, and both looked up, Zeleika with less than enthusiasm, Corbin with relief.

"Well, Corbin, I'm back." She said, unnecessarily. It was the only way that she could think of to tactfully inform Zeleika that he was not a dragonman, by showing that there was no honorific contraction. Zeleika certainly looked surprised and opened her mouth to say something. She must have missed out on Corbin's earlier display of grief, Rillys mused. Too busy in the barn with someone perhaps – if that wasn't bitchy. Zeleika had always been fond of barns and handsome men. Rillys wondered whimsically if that was the cause of her husband's untimely death – overwork. She smiled at Corbin.

"I see my old foster companion has been making herself known to you." She said. "Zeleika, I hate to be rude, but Corbin and I will be making a very early start tomorrow, and I wish to discuss business matters with him before I turn in."

Zeleika stared, then shrugged, laughing good naturedly.

"I don't poach." She said. "You know that."

It was true. Zeleika had always had her code. For one thing it avoided trouble; for another she was a nice person. She had never knowingly flirted with another woman's man, even someone whose social position was way below her own, and Rillys nodded acknowledgement before embracing her friend and promising to keep in touch.

As they walked in, Corbin remarked,

"Silly girl, isn't she?"

Rillys bridled a little.

"Not as silly as she likes to pretend. Anyway, she has the gift of being happy. That's probably more comfortable than being clever."

"Damned with faint praise." He sounded amused. "Well, lady, do I do? I hope I bought the right sort of things to suit your sense of what is right. And I've had salves put on my face and hands."

Rillys thought she detected a mocking tone to his voice; but it did not annoy her as D're's banter had annoyed L'rilly. She was experienced enough in life to realise that it concealed the blow to his pride in accepting her gifts. She told him,

"I think you look fine; and if you're happy, that's good. But don't dress to please me. Dress to feel good."

He snorted; but she fancied that he was relieved that she approved of what he had done. He seemed to be taking a pride in his appearance, something that had been the last thing on his mind when she had met him a few short hours before!

VIII

Corbin was a good companion on the trek home, making nothing of the rough terrain and good at pitching camp. Rillys could see that the men she had brought were impressed, and that was to the good; it would make his acceptance easier. If Markin the steward also accepted him, he would soon settle.

Markin was inclined to be suspicious of the strange man his Lady had brought home. He knew as well as she that she might well become prey to fortune hunters, and he was not sure whether to be glad or sorry that there was a stranger with her not that harper. Markin had nothing against Ferdal; and he certainly was not a fortune hunter, but the practical steward found the man too frivolous and impractical for his liking, especially if he was to be the Lady's man. This man had a grimness of mien that did not suggest frivolity; and the Threadscoring told something of its own story. Markin was not surprised when Rillys introduced him,

"This is Corbin. He has suffered a great loss and it is our responsibility to help all we can."

Markin extended a cautious, but courteous hand; and after a moment's hesitation, Corbin took it.

"Let me find you quarters, Corbin." Said Markin "And we can discuss how much of a role you intend to take in the Hold's everyday life." He whisked Corbin away, and had soon determined that this was no hanger on. Corbin wanted something to do to fill the void; and although it was a long time since he had been a Beastcraft apprentice, he had worked with animals in his Weyr and suggested this as work for himself. Markin agreed thankfully, and drew for Corbin more clothes from the Hold store that the smell of the beasts should not impregnate his good ones.

"If you understand beast care" he told him "I'd be glad if you'd be my deputy in checking up on the care of animals in and around the Hold. Before Lady Rillys took Hold, our Lord was…not gentle; and as such things come from the top we still have something of a problem of occasional brutality."

"Leave it to me." Corbin said grimly. He was glad that there was something he could do; and the steward seemed truly pleased to be able to delegate this so it was not make-work.

Markin grinned.

"Of course, the girls do interfere quite a lot in that respect – Lady Sagarra especially. They can't stand cruelty to animals, and you should have seen those big bullies they caught teasing the Watchwher – all over bruises for all that there was three of them and two-three turns older!"

"The girls? Tell me more."

"Lady Amrys is the daughter of our Lady Rillys – and her dead husband, of course." He added hastily. "Lady Rillys Holds as Lady Warder for her daughter. Lady Sagarra is from the Weyr – our Lady fosters her as company for Lady Amrys, on account of her close friendship with the young minx's parents." Markin was not knowledgeable about the precise relationships within the Weyr; no one had felt it pertinent to explain it to him, so he assumed that the petite redhead who visited was Sagarra's sister and her mother remained at the Weyr. "Life's never boring with them around – and you can't stay cross for long. They always MEAN well." His voice was indulgent. The girls plagued the life out of him; but they were polite and obedient, and could be trusted to carry out tasks set them; and he told Corbin so.

Corbin was looking forward to meeting these paragons; and he did not have long to wait. They precipitated – he could think of no other way to describe it – into his room after a perfunctory knock while he was putting away the clothes Markin had given him.

"How do you do sir!" they chorused, dropping rather clumsy curtseys. The dark-haired one, he noticed, had skinned knees and a cut on her arm. Both also had firelizards, which rapidly made friends with his Silka.

"Markin says we're to make ourselves known to you and show you all around everywhere tomorrow." Said Skinned Knees in one breath. "I'm Sagarra, and this is Amrys, and please don't call us Lady all the time because it's a frightful bore and wastes time."

Corbin actually smiled.

"Well Sagarra and Amrys, I'm glad to meet you." He said gravely. Sagarra dug at the ground with her foot, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Please – Rillys says you've lost your dragon, and we wanted to say sorry, but we're not supposed to mention dragons in case it hurts on pain of a skelping, but hurting you would be worse than a skelping could be" - she breathed here- "And if we say anything tactless I thought we should apologise beforehand."

"And we'd do anything we can to help." Added Amrys. Her soft brown hair was more under control than Sagarra's unruly black mop and she looked meek and biddable; but her voice was firm, and Corbin read in her face a strength that, allied with Sagarra's temerity gave credence to all the stories Markin had told him about these two! He did not want to be reminded of dragons, but he appreciated the good will behind the girls' blunt words.

"I cannot go through life if I run every time someone says something that upsets me." He said, firmly. "I appreciate your intentions. I will see you at first light; but I am busy right now. So, hoppit!"

The girls hopped it, somewhat to their own surprise.

"Whew! He's just like R'gar!" opined Amrys. Sagarra looked thoughtful.

"I wonder if Rillys likes him." She considered.

"D'you think he's any good at fishing?"

"We'll soon find out. I reckon he's a good'un." Sagarra gave her summation. "AND he's an ex dragonman. Can't miss."

The girls went off to supper arm in arm and making plans.

IX

Rillys had been wondering all day how to let Corbin know that she was attracted to him without offending his pride; and she was not best pleased to find that the girls were interfering. They had spent the day showing him around, and by all accounts had been singing her praises to the poor man. Now at home for supper, Amrys was busy pointing out to her mother what a nice man Corbin was and how good with the animals even if he couldn't fish.

"And he threw Vellek in the lake." Asserted Sagarra in satisfaction. Vellek had been a thorn in Rillys's flesh, continually flouting her orders and treating his animals badly. The thought of him being thrown in the lake – and in this weather – did afford her an amount of satisfaction. However, she felt constrained to remonstrate.

"Girls – I know what you're up to." She said.

"UP to?" two pairs of innocent eyes stared up at her.

"Up to." She reiterated firmly. "And I'd rather you didn't interfere. Can we just assume that I can handle my own life and relationships without help?"

They looked injured.

"But I only said mummy…" began Amrys, Sagarra kicked her under the table. She had learned when to say nothing.

"Yes, well, just stop only saying it." Rillys told her irritably.

"Why did you kick me?" In private, Amrys was injured in her tone.

"You NEVER explain to grownups!" Sagarra told her. "They lose all sense of proportion over certain things as soon as they reach twenty turns and become middle aged. It's better to say nothing. Then you've not committed yourself to anything. Besides, I have a plan…"

Rillys sought out Corbin to apologise for the girls. She was pleased to find that he had taken it in good part.

"How many men have they tried to marry you to?" he asked. She looked startled.

"Why, none OH!" She burned. "You mean all those people Sagarra invited from the Weyr weren't to help her settle but….?" She gasped. "I think I'm going to have words with that young lady."

"I'd not be hasty, if I were you, Lady." He advised. "They mean it for the best – they're only concerned for your happiness. You can hear it in their voices when they talk of you; they love you well, you know."

She softened.

"If you think so… I didn't want you to think that was why I'd brought you here…"

"Well, lady, I'd be scarcely likely to think that, would I? I may be attractive enough to your friend when she thinks I've still a dragon, but I don't fool myself you know."

Rillys flushed.

"You choose to misinterpret my words." She said stiffly. "The impression I meant to convey was that there would be no strings attached. I know the voracious appetites of some ladies and their unreasonable demands. As to implying that you're not attractive, that's pure wherry teeth. Just because your face is messed up it doesn't affect the overall impression…" she tailed off blushing, realising that he was staring at her. He strode over and looked down into her face, standing so close he was almost touching her. Rillys was trembling violently and her breath came fast. Her colour changed from white to red and back again.

"Mummy!"

The cry came from behind the hedge.

"Rillys? Where are you?" Sagarra's voice joined in. Corbin's breath was released in an explosive hiss.

"DRAT those childer!" he muttered, turning on his heel and striding off.

Rillys was not sure whether to be sorry or glad of the interruption. Her body was definitely making enthusiastic responses to Corbin's proximity; but she hardly knew the man! She pulled herself together to deal with whatever it was the girls needed.

Rillys and Corbin behaved very circumspectly after this. Both had been shocked by the intensity of their physical desire and came to a tacit agreement to keep things under control. This did not suit the girls.

"Do you think we scared them off by trying to help?" lamented Amrys.

"Of course not! At least, I don't think so." Amended Sagarra. The ways of grown ups were very strange. It was plain to EVERYONE that they were perfectly suited – no one questioned Corbin's orders at all, and he was working closely with Markin, learning the running of a Hold. He had a dry sense of humour when he could be coaxed out of being grim, and he was kind, and good to animals. Such a nice pair of people should be admirably suited! However, there was Sagarra's secret plan. Covertly she watched Silka; and one day she was able to report to her friend that the little creature was definitely more golden than she had been the day before. Corbin had his footsteps dogged until Sagarra's expert eye decided that the moment was right. Amrys was dispatched to tell him that he was to go to Lady Rillys's room IMMEDIATELY as she needed him.

Unsuspecting, though irritable at the ubiquitous nature of the girls today – it had not occurred to Corbin that he was out of sorts as a result of his firelizard's impending flight – The dragonless man did as he was told. Behind the door, Sagarra gave the signal; and the heavy door was pushed to and barred!

"WHAT?" Corbin exclaimed. Rillys was no less shocked and surprised, as well as taken aback to see him at a time of day she thought him safely elsewhere.

"What is going on? Did you want to see me?" She asked.

"I was told you wanted to see me." He scowled; then laughed. "They really are manipulative – and determined! And they've even locked us in – SHARDS!" He exclaimed as little Silka unwrapped herself from his neck and rose into the air, screaming her lust. Star, asleep on the chair post, awoke abruptly. Both little creatures vanished with one accord **between.**

Rillys was shaking. She had thought that she wanted him before; now it was uncontrollable. She almost fell, but before she could do so, she was in his arms and he was carrying her into the inner room. Protesting seemed such a ridiculously futile idea, although she did mean to say

"Corbin – don't" somehow it came out as "Corbin – please – yes" and a tangle of incoherent phrases.

His loving was an almost desperate need, and Rillys's soul cried that she could not be with him as Doroth could. She gave him all she could, reaching through Star as she had learned to do perhaps more thoroughly than those who had not had the advantage of spending time in a Weyr; and she knew that she pleased him, that for a little time he could almost forget. It was the most momentous experience of Rillys's life, and somewhere in the muddled words they exchanged she told him so. As the firelizards reached the height of their own joy, Rillys clung to Corbin as though she wanted to become a part of him; and he held her as if he would never let her go.

Much later as they lay silently together, Rillys heard the stealthy unbarring of the door.

"I should skelp those horrors" she murmured drowsily.

"It worked" he said dryly.

"We'd have gotten around to it sooner or later. Corbin, we could scarcely be in each other's presence without noticing, er, each other" she finished lamely.

"But the firelizards – they break barriers" he paused to kiss her, and the conversation was postponed for a while. Later he explained,

"I can't feel for anyone the way I felt about Doroth. But you know that. I was afraid to reach out at all. That time in the garden – the physical was pulling me, I didn't intend to listen to my mind. This" he smiled at her, a more complete smile than his usual "This was a total reaching, mind and body. Rillys, I can love. It's frightening; and it's clouded by my incompleteness; but what there is of me is yours."

She cradled his head against her, well content.

"If I can help the empty place even a little, I will" she whispered.

Outside the door, Sagarra was trying in vain to eavesdrop.

"We're going to catch it" asseverated Amrys gloomily.

"So? If we've made them happy, it's worth it" Sagarra declared "And one of them would have come storming out by now if they weren't happy. The lizards finished ages ago, so they're back to normal mentally. At least" she amended "As mentally normal as grown ups ever are!"


	5. Chapter 5

Y'lara 10-11-2521 – 2-13-2522

I

Y'lara was more than a little snippy. It was not because Tanath was due to rise; in fact the reverse. Tanath had risen and Vorth had been beaten by Breeneth.

Y'lara had enjoyed her experience with T'chal; he was an athletic man who knew how to please a girl, as B'lova could also attest to, but it was not the point. The point was that M'kel was her weyrmate; and he should have been urging Vorth on.

"Besides" she told M'kel, "T'chal's boring, and he snores. And it's YOUR fault."

M'kel had learned that there were times when arguing with Y'lara was a bad idea. This was probably one of them. However, she was plainly more disturbed by his failure to win her on this occasion than she cared to say; and he knew she was spoiling for a fight to get it out of her system. He sighed and prepared to have seaholder oaths screamed at him with all the volume that seabred lungs could muster. Which was considerable. At least they'd have a chance to make up later! He chose his words with care to exacerbate her temper.

"Well" he said, "You had fun. Tanath had fun. And I did console myself with a couple of lower cavern girls."

The onslaught lasted some twenty minutes and covered his morals, personal habits and probable antecedents. When M'kel could get a word in edgeways he added,

"Playing chess."

"What?" She was nonplussed.

"I consoled myself playing chess against the combined efforts of a couple of lower cavern girls." His face was a study of injured innocence, his unruly hair flopping forward and giving him a boyish look. Y'lara glared at him, and for an instant he thought she was going to slap him. Then her lip quivered and she collapsed onto her bed in helpless laughter.

"Come here." She managed at last.

M'kel complied readily; and found ways to soothe away the last remnants of her disapproval.

II

Y'lara did not want any baby that had resulted from her unexpected coupling with T'chal. She was not in any case, she felt, the maternal type, but she certainly did not want T'chal feeling it his rather ponderous duty to interfere in the upbringing of a child of hers. T'chal was a good man; but Y'lara found him a tedious companion and his nasal voice grated on her nerves. He was also inclined to do everything precisely according to the rules; and she had a vision of him flying solemnly to the Healercraft Hall to obtain instructions on pregnancy, birth and childcare. If he lectured her on what she should be going through, she knew she would hit him, and regret it later. Y'lara therefore decided to take any resultant pregnancy **between** and duly consulted Pilgra on the best time to do so.

The girl had considered having a child with M'kel, but as he already had two or three offspring in the lower caverns (in whom he took an offhand interest when he thought of it) fatherhood was not likely to be the big thing for him that it was for someone like R'gar. Y'lara had taken care to get to know M'kel's children in case they required fostering later on, since she felt herself a proper person for them to turn to. The oldest was a sturdy boy of some seven turns named Mikas, whose mother Assela was one of Calla's numerous relations. She was a motherly girl who fostered, with others, M'kel's daughters. They were four and three turns respectively. The younger of these, Amika, had only been a baby when Y'lara had Impressed and she had regarded the child's mother suspiciously in case she had a rival; but the girl – whose name Y'lara could not even remember – had been happy to move on to pastures new. The other child, Mikrelle, was a solemn child with a propensity for asking awkward questions in her clear childish treble with the superbly bad timing only the very young could achieve. Y'lara had rather taken to Mikrelle, especially since the little girl's own mother Mirelle was inclined to ignore the child because she had been rather dismayed to discover that she was pregnant. This was another reason to Y'lara to avoid having a child herself. She did not like small babies, and she felt sure that she would be prejudiced against any child she had if she had had to deal with it in the messy stages. Y'lara firmly believed that children understood more than most people gave them credit for; and she had no desire to make any being feel unloved. She lavished such maternal feelings as she had on Mikrelle, to the child's delight.

oOo

Y'lara was not averse to taking Mikrelle and Mikas to the occasional Gather, though she drew the line at taking Amika. The little girl was noticeably much younger than her sister, and seemed young for her age. Y'lara privately suspected that the babe might have suffered damage during birth and was simple. It would explain why her mother too had been very willing to give up the child to Assela's care. Y'lara sympathised; she found it difficult to know what to say to the babe, though she tried hard to give her cuddles and affection. Mikrelle was a very different proposition, well on for her turns and trying desperately to catch up to her brother Mikas!

Mikas took the flattering attentions of a baby sister with his usual phlegmatic acceptance. It puzzled Y'lara that someone as volatile as M'kel could father a child who gave, until one knew him, an impression of bucolic stolidity. Actually the lad was developing a fine sense of humour in a rather understated way, and Y'lara warmed to him as he caught her eye, his own twinkling, after she had made an unguarded and pithy remark about another rider. Mikas was deep, and would probably be a good friend when he grew up. Y'lara was glad. She would have felt very uncomfortable if she had been unable to get on with any of her lover's children. As it was, she suspected that she knew them better than he did!

oOo

It was with this in mind that Y'lara suggested to M'kel that he take her and the two older ones to a Gather at Tillek to get to know them better. She was the first to confess that she'd be happy to hand them back to their foster mother; but it was nice to sometimes do things as a family. Since Assela was more than happy to get a couple of lively children out of her way for a few hours occasionally, everyone was happy; and they set off in festive mood.

M'kel found that he enjoyed the time spent with his children, and rather liked being slightly hero-worshipped. However, after a while, the continual stream of questions did leave him feeling slightly harried! He made the excuse that there were things to buy; and that he might as well see to it as it would be boring for the youngsters. Y'lara raised an eyebrow, understanding his motivations; but forgiving him for them. They agreed to meet back by the dragons to go and eat together.

oOo

Y'lara was not entirely surprised not to find M'kel when she returned with a pair of grubby, tired and hungry infants. She sighed inwardly, and asked Tanath to bespeak Vorth to hurry her weyrmate up.

Tanath's reply irritated her.

"_Vorth says that his rider is not thinking very clearly. But he is trying to concentrate on something else. Vorth says he is not replying properly." _

"DRUNK!" exclaimed Y'lara. "He's drunk! And doubtless in some gambling game!"

Mikas smiled at her confidingly.

"Father likes gambling." He informed her.

"I know." She made herself smile at the child. It would not be a good idea to voice all she was thinking in front of M'kel's children! Mikrelle asked,

"Will he be eating with us?"

"I don't think we'll let him, shall we – if he's forgotten when we were to meet him." Y'lara answered. She wanted the children to eat before they were to tired to do so. "We'll tell Vorth to tell him."

Quickly she asked Tanath to pass on the message that she was going to see the children fed and then take them home. She MIGHT be back for M'kel later.

oOo

An hour later Mikas and Mikrelle were ready for bed and telling Assela sleepy and disjointed tales of the things they had done and seen. Assela had persuaded Mikas not to take to bed with him the fish he had caught under the tutelage of a Fishercrafter, and had promised to make a nightshirt for the doll Mikrelle had won by correctly guessing her name. As Y'lara had only paid for three attempts, the little girl was delighted. It was a ceramic doll with real hair and an embroidered dress, just like some of the big girls had! Y'lara was by this time regretting her rash suggestion that they sew a stuffed dragon for the doll to Impress; but she thought that Assela would tell her how to go about it!

oOo

After the children were asleep, and Y'lara had given Assela a slightly less garbled version of events over a needed cup of klah, she asked Tanath to check with Vorth. The answer was unsettling. Apparently, M'kel was angry about something. Y'lara decided to return to Tillek and find him.

She was just in time to see him walking – somewhat unsteadily – towards Vorth, accompanied by a young and frightened girl. He saw Y'lara and his face lit up in an idiotic grin.

Y'lara debated with herself as to whether to lay him out; but the girl with him looked scared enough without treating her to a display of violence. She was younger than Y'lara had first supposed – too young to attract even the wayward M'kel, who liked his women to be women, and preferably practised at that. This girl was barely marriageable, even by Hold standards.

Y'lara greeted M'kel in a voice that came from **between.**

"You forgot to meet us."

M'kel looked uncomfortable.

"Well… I wash winning. And then…" he tailed off.

"Then? And who is this?"

M'kel blinked.

"Thish? Thish ish Sh…S…Serahana."

Y'lara kept her temper with an effort.

"That scarcely tells me a thing." She said.

"Oh well… I'sh like thish… her b-brother. He, well he betted her."

Y'lara stared at him.

"Are you telling me that you were so lost to decency that you accepted a little girl as a stake?" she enquired icily. M'kel nodded.

"Thought… what a piece of dung. Di'n't think sh-she should shtay with him." He nodded owlishly. "B'sides, 'nother player wash MOSHT innereshted. Di'n't like him. Kep' pawing at her. Not nishe. Not nishe at all. Th-thought I c'd look after her better."

"M'kel, you can barely look after yourself." Y'lara had thawed somewhat as she unravelled her lover's tale of this poor child's plight, but she wasn't going to let him know that. However, her apparent disapproval seemed to have no effect at all on him. He beamed at her beatifically.

"Know that, sweeting. Th-thought you c'd look after her. Foshter her. Or som'fin'." He smiled happily, and with one happy sigh, passed out. Y'lara groaned.

"Well, Serahana" she said crisply "I think we'd better get our brave dragonrider onto Vorth's back and well strapped on. Thank goodness that Vorth has the common sense he was born with DESPITE being Impressed to M'kel; he'll take him home quite adequately."

The little girl curtsied.

"What must I do, Weyrwoman?" she asked, trying not to let the tremour of fear show in her voice.

"For starters child you call me Y'lara, not Weyrwoman. For one thing I'm a Green rider; for another I can't abide ceremony. You've nothing to fear from US at any rate. Now, I'm going to climb onto Vorth. Do you shove while I heave."

The child giggled.

"You make him sound like a sack of firestone!" She commented, then covered her mouth, consternation in her face. Y'lara pretended not to notice, and chuckled at the sally.

"Sometimes I think he has as much intelligence." She commented dryly. "Though I'd not let many others say as much. He's my weyrmate, you know."

"So he'll not want me to lay with him?" the question was casually phrased, but Y'lara knew that the child dreaded the answer.

"Lay with a child?" She made herself sound incredulous. "What sort of man do you think he is? He can have his pick of women – if I let him, which I don't. He doesn't need to force his attentions on nippers."

Perhaps it was Y'lara's seabred accent as much as her words which induced the child to relax; but she threw herself on the Greenrider and burst into tears. Y'lara, startled, nonetheless soothed her and stroked her long blonde hair until she calmed down; then jollied her along into helping get M'kel atop Vorth. Then, taking Serahana up with her on Tanath, Y'lara directed both dragons back to High Reaches. She called for H'llon to put her wayward lover to bed, and took Serahana to the lower caverns for food.

"I'll foster you" she said "But you'll have to do a lot of looking after yourself. I'm pretty busy a lot of the time."

Serahana smiled at her; it transformed her face from merely pretty into truly lovely.

"Weyr- er, Y'lara, I'm used to looking after myself. In fact I'm used to feeding, cleaning and mending for my brother and his countless friends too" she said. Y'lara frowned.

"Well, let's just hope the worthless pig doesn't discover how much he needs you and come asking for you back" she declared. Serahana's face whitened.

"Can- can he do that?" she whispered. Y'lara shook her head.

"No, for sure he can't. Not if you're at the Weyr voluntarily. I was just thinking that it would be a bit of unpleasantness. Mostly" she mused "For him. Dung like that have it coming to them. Wonder if he'd bounce if I tossed him off the Seven spindles?" She grinned at the child, who was staring at her in some awe and added regretfully, "Couldn't do it of course. Upset too many people – and that would upset T'bor. Good man, T'bor" she held out a hand to the girl. "Come now, let's find you a place to sleep and I'll show you about properly tomorrow. You can meet M'kel's children and then the other weyrlings your age, and learn your lessons with the Weyrharper. If your brother has been using you as a drudge, I don't suppose he's let you attend the lessons?"

Serahana shook her head, wide eyed. She was not sure whether to be delighted or scared at the prospect of so much contact with other children, but she did know that she wanted to please Y'lara!

oOo

M'kel woke up with the worst hangover he could remember. He appreciated the mug of klah Y'lara had ready for him; but looked warily at her somewhat uncompromising expression.

"I had the strangest dream" he told her. She sniffed.

"If it involved getting legless and winning a little girl from her red star-born brother to save her from some other piece of wher-dung, it was no dream" she told him.

"It wasn't? I can't remember her name" he groaned. "Matter of fact, I'm not sure I can remember mine."

Y'lara was unsympathetic.

"Get down to the lake and take a cold bath" she suggested. "That'll clear the mush from what you laughingly refer to as your brain."

M'kel didn't take offence. His lover spoke in gentle tones that did not hurt his aching head, so her insults were merely an expression of her affection rather than to be taken seriously.

"Have you seen T'bor about it?" he asked, trying to remember the right protocol.

"About Serahana? Yes, I have. I thought he should know what had happened – in case of repercussions. I talked very fast for you dearest – he thought you should have gone to Lord Oterel as soon as that disgraceful stake was suggested, but I told him you didn't think there'd be time. Just remember that. And it was rather late by the time the game finished so we didn't think Oterel would appreciate being disturbed. Which he wouldn't." she added. "It wasn't a matter of life and death by then and could wait."

M'kel gave her a hazy smile and rolled, groaning, out of bed.

"You're good to me" he managed. "Uggh, I think I'll take your advice on that cold bath."

oOo

There were threatened repercussions; Serahana's brother begged a lift from V'ral's Sledeth to harangue T'bor concerning his sister's alleged kidnapping by a dragonman. T'bor listened icily.

"Do you deny that you put the girl up as a stake in a game?" he asked.

"Is that what she says? Sir, the girl's simple! You can't trust a thing she says!"

T'bor had spoken to Serahana and had found her a girl of fair if not remarkable intelligence; and the Weyrharper had said that she was catching up well with her studies. He regarded the man with distaste.

"You are plainly trying to excuse yourself" he said. "And doubtless just want your drudge back."

"If" put in Y'lara, who had come soft-footed up behind the man, "He doesn't have another ulterior motive – how much were you offered by that child-spoiler to sell her to him?"

The man jumped, nervously.

"It's not true!" he blustered. "You've been told a tissue of lies, Weyrleader – she's been kidnapped from me!"

T'bor shrugged.

"It's an easy question to answer." He said grimly. Y'lara felt the rush in her head as he called Orth. "I object to my people being called liars, but we can test it out. Perhaps you are not aware that dragons can tell what people are thinking, and read whether or not they lie?" He smiled pleasantly as Orth landed. Serahana's brother took an involuntary step backward and T'bor's smile evaporated as he stared at the man. "Is it not true that you want your sister back merely for your own gain – either as a drudge or to sell to another man for his perverse pleasures?" He asked. Orth rumbled dangerously. The man whined,

"You can't do that to me – you can't let that Thing delve in my thoughts!"

"It looks as though I have my answer" said the Weyrleader grimly. "You will not receive the courtesy of a dragon ride back. You can walk." The man stared.

"But – but it will take DAYS!" he complained. T'bor shrugged.

"The sooner you set out, the sooner you'll arrive" he said, heartlessly. "H'llon, see him out."

The big Bronze rider grinned.

"With pleasure, Weyrleader" he said, taking the protesting man by the collar, holding him so he was forced to run on tiptoes. "Stop fussing, you." He added to his whining charge. "- Else I'll hand you over to the women."

As Y'lara and a number of her cronies had chosen this time to sharpen their belt knives – Y'lara's being a wicked, hook-pointed implement she used for gutting fish – this threat had considerable impact and the man let himself be ejected with no more than a threat to tell Lord Oterel. H'llon gave way to temptation and speeded him on his way with a hearty kick to the backside.

T'bor had, of course, anticipated the man's complaint, and was briefing V'ral.

"I, like, had to bring him, kind of thing, you know?" V'ral actually managed to be almost coherent. T'bor had intended sending a verbal message; but under the circumstances decided to tell the young man to wait while he wrote to Lord Oterel.

"As for you" he rounded on Y'lara "You and that wayward weyrmate of yours had better write down what happened too. You witnessed what the child said; and he was there. NO speculation, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Weyrleader" said Y'lara sweetly. T'bor blinked; and hoped fervently that so much apparent compliance did not bode trouble! As it happened, Y'lara had no intention of indulging in speculation. Being seabred, she had a lively regard for Lord Oterel's intelligence and knew well enough that he would read between the lines and draw his own conclusions.

oOo

Meanwhile, Serahana was no trouble to foster; in fact the reverse. She made herself useful about Y'lara's weyr, and as her introduction to dragons had been the prosaic loading of an unconscious M'kel she displayed no fear of Tanath and Vorth as she helped scrub and oil them. Indeed, Y'lara admonished her for helping too much!

"You'll be turning me as soft as a landsman!" she chided gently, making the young girl giggle. "Besides, what about spending time with your friends?"

Serahana shook back her blonde tresses.

"They're all kids" she declared dismissively. Y'lara gave a wry smile.

"I suppose they must seem to – when you've been running a household, and seen behaviour no kid your age should see." She said. "Some of the recently Impressed youngsters, now – they've had to grow up to care for their dragonets. I don't necessarily mean the girls, though L'nna isn't at all stuffy as if any sister of K'len's could be, but some of the lads. Then there's the Logicators. If you'd like a girl friend, you could do worse than take up with young Elissa, the woodcraft apprentice. And her fellow apprentices are fine boys for harum-scarums."

Serahana smiled gratefully at Y'lara, appreciating that she was trying to help. She thought perhaps she might try to get to know this Elissa; H'llon and his apprentices always looked as though they were having a good time, and Serahana had noticed that they, too, had little time for what she termed the 'kids' of their and her own age!

oOo

As it happened, Elissa was glad to have a female friend of her own age who was a bit more grown up than most. She had plenty of Logicator friends who were some years her senior, like Zaira, but they were a bit TOO grown up and preoccupied with silly things like how handsome H'llon was. Of course, as Elissa admitted to Serahana, there was no one as wonderful as H'llon, but that was no reason to go soppy and mushy on him. Serahana nodded. It was one of the things she strongly approved of about Y'lara and M'kel that they never displayed any soppy amounts of affection. They were more likely to abuse each other roundly than murmur sweet nothings; but it was plain that they were close, and that was comforting without being embarrassing. The two girls formed a secret society in which they swore never to be soppy, hold hands or giggle in a silly way.

oOoOo

It was fortunate for Y'lara that Serahana was so capable; for the young Green rider had been helping carry medicine for an outbreak of fever, and succumbed to it herself. Y'lara was disgusted; she proclaimed that she never caught anything when M'kel mentioned that she was rather white, then promptly fainted at his feet. M'kel sent for Calla and Serahana; and the girl was flattered that he considered her in an emergency. Calla was less than happy; but as M'kel pointed out, the child had been around both of them, and had likely taken it already if she was going to. Calla sighed, and put all three into isolation, leaving their friends to care for their dragons. She knew well enough from tales as well as from experience the dreadful effect an epidemic could have on the effectiveness of a Weyr. And there had been grief enough lately in the Weyr over the death of young Deela, who even Masterhealer Oldive's best care could not save. On due consideration, she isolated Assela and her fosterlings separately in case Y'lara had passed on anything to Mikas or Mikrelle.

Fortunately Y'lara's illness seemed to be isolated, and Serahana was able to help M'kel nurse her through it. The child had a lot of common sense, which helped M'kel cope with his near-panic when Y'lara complied with all orders and took whatever foul tasting medicines Calla provided without a murmur of protest! M'kel had almost convinced himself she was dying until the day she gave vent to a blistering oath as she became aware of the taste of Calla's latest brew. M'kel kissed her and hugged her, and had to be banished by Calla until he had calmed down.

Y'lara was badly pulled by her illness, and – to her great disgust – inclined to be weepy. Even Tanath rising and being duly caught by Vorth did not entirely cheer her up. Y'lara was not used to being weak, and was a very bad patient once the worst was over! She snapped frequently, then cried because she had upset her loved ones. M'kel was at his wits end; he had never known Y'lara like this before!

"Give her time" Calla advised. "She's not over it yet – and it vexes her not to be up and active. The least effort still overtires her and that angers her. If it's any consolation, she will at least be more sympathetic to sick people in future!"

M'kel nodded. His beloved was inclined to expect people to pull themselves together – and now she couldn't do it for herself. He resolved to be patient, and do as much for her as he could get away with without her noticing.

Y'lara did notice; but she appreciated his motives. She knew that she was not behaving well, snapping and sobbing over nothing, and tried to make up for it by being as loving as she felt able. Gradually she got better, and as the days wore on was almost back to her old self when, without warning, she woke up feeling horribly nauseous. She barely made it to the necessary in time.

"What is it?" asked M'kel.

"I'm sick. What's it look like?" mumbled Y'lara from inside the pan.

"I'll get Calla."

On second thoughts, M'kel hollered to a weyrling to send Calla; and returned to stroke his weyrmate's hair. Calla arrived fairly promptly.

"How do you feel now?" she asked crisply.

"Better out than in I think….rather wobbly" confessed Y'lara.

"Breakfast for you my girl" ordered Calla. Y'lara went green.

"You want I should puke on you?" she asked weakly.

"You keep a dry pastry by your bed from now on" Calla told her. "Eat it first thing."

Y'lara stared.

"Why?" she asked bluntly.

"Because eating something dry is the best cure for morning sickness." Declared Calla and walked out. Y'lara and M'kel stared at each other.

"But I use herbs!" she cried. He shook his head.

"Not when Tanath rose….you weren't very much aware of anything, even Tanath."

"Crackdust!" said Y'lara. He held her.

"It's all right, love. We can take it **between**."

Y'lara burst into tears.

"I don't want to!" she howled. M'kel soothed her.

"Well, don't then. Dear, it's your body. You do what you want. If you want rid of it, that's fine; if you want to have a baby, that's fine too. Assela or someone can foster for you if that's what you'd like. Whatever you decide, you know I'll stand by you and support you. 'sh dear, don't cry. I'm getting damp and then I'll catch cold!"

Y'lara gave a hiccup somewhere between a sob and a chuckle and he turned her face up to his.

"Tell me you love me" he said. "Give me a burst of that seahold invective."

"Ratbag" she said lovingly; and Serahana sighed a few moments later to find them behaving in an uncharacteristically soppy fashion.


	6. Chapter 6

L'rilly part 1 winter 2521/22

I

L'rilly was feeling frustrated. She had been working very hard with D're to get pregnant; and whilst the attempting was fun in itself, nothing seemed to be coming of it.

"I'm sterile from all these years going _**between**_!" she wailed. D're put his arm around her.

"Sure, and that's a possibility" he said. "But it doesn't matter, my lovely. You're what matters to me, and any babies are just a bonus" he pulled a face. "I can't believe I just said anything so maudlin-sounding" he said. "Only it's true – even if it does sound mushy."

L'rilly managed half a laugh.

"You sound like those pesky brats Serahana and Elissa and their anti-soppy comments. I WANT you to be soppy. I feel fragile."

"Sure, and I didn't want you to think I was just mouthing platitudes, Pretty. I know you don't always trust my glib trader tongue."

She hugged him fiercely, burying her face against a chest that smelled of Esruth's Bronzey Musk.

"I know you better now" she said softly. "And I know you'd not lie to me – not as we're weyrmates. I – I love you, D're. That's why I want to have your babies."

He kissed her head, then started working downwards.

"It could be for sure that we're not practising enough" he twinkled roguishly as he started undoing buttons.

"OH YOU!" She protested half-heartedly, but only making a token protest with her hands. D're took advantage of the situation, and soon L'rilly was too preoccupied with the pleasure of their joining to worry overmuch about the future.

oOoOo

The concern did not leave L'rilly that she had used up her fertile years, and she consulted T'lan.

"You used herbs of course, when you were with a er, number of people?" ssked her friend. L'rilly nodded. "And did they ever fail?" T'lana pursued the question. She was answered by a shake of the head. "You never took a pregnancy _**between**_?" T'lana sounded surprised. Another shake.

"No" iterated L'rilly. "I never got unlucky, even after Tamalenth had risen – and I know it's more likely to fall pregnant then."

T'lana pulled a face.

"The chances are, then, that you're just not very fertile" she said carefully. "That might just mean it's going to take you a longish time for anything to happen – or it might, and I'm sorry but you have to face it, mean that you were sterile to start out with never mind flits _**between**_."

L'rilly looked aghast.

"I never thought of that!" she cried. "I don't think mother was very fertile."

"Then you may be lucky, and that's all it is. Sterility, after all" said T'lana with a straight face "Is not hereditary!" she added, perceiving that the comment had passed L'rilly by, "Just relax, dear one, and let nature take its course if it's going to. You'll certainly not get a babe if you're so busy worry-wherrying about it that your innards are all bitter."

II

L'rilly tried not to worry about the continued non-appearance of the signs of possible pregnancy, but she was inclined to go off for straight flights on Tamalenth when she was feeling depressed, as nothing cheered her up so much as sharing moments with her dear life partner. It was on one of these flights that she spied a small party toiling up to the Weyr through the snow. A diversion was welcome; and besides, L'rilly was far too nosy not to wonder what could bring people up the mountain in such inclement conditions. The last time anyone had tried had been almost a year before when her D're had brought his fair of sick children to the Weyr in an act of desperation. Perhaps others had heard about his efforts and had come to join him? L'rilly urged Tamalenth into a neat wingover – the young Queen had been losing weight and had achieved a svelte figure of late – and brought her in to land at a distance enough not to frighten the runner beasts with the party. L'rilly jumped nimbly down and approached the group. For a moment as she drew closer she wondered if she had accidentally gone _**between**_ back in time – for the leader was at a length or two's distance the spitting image of D're! As she looked harder, she realised that the majority of the others were adult, not children, though children were present, wrapped in furs and riding, for the most part, on the runners. She wondered briefly whether D're was playing a practical joke, but dismissed the idea very quickly. This man looked like D're; but he did not have the same roguish, challenging stance. He was older and stockier too, and wore a harassed, worried look. L'rilly doubted whether D're could ever let himself get overset by worry to that extent; he was too much the incurable optimist! He would soon find a way to laugh at any trouble, and tease everyone else into laughing with him until all troubles became trivial. This then must be D're's family of whom he was so reticent, who had felt that he was unable to accompany them trading after the loss of his leg. L'rilly's face briefly hardened; she knew without asking that D're had been hurt by this spurning of him. However, there were women and children in the family trader group, and they looked exhausted. She went forward and greeted them.

"Good morning" she said. "The Mulgan Family, I presume."

The leader looked at her suspiciously.

"Sure, my name's Morrity Mulgan" he admitted. "And how would you be knowing who we are, pretty Weyrwoman?"

L'rilly reflected that the Ruathan trader habit of flattery seemed to run true, at least in this family!

"No two families could have hair that colour – not with the face hair as well" she said dryly. "I'm just wondering what relationship you hold to one who was named Daire."

"Daire is my nephew – wait, you say WAS – is he dead? What happened?"

L'rilly was gratified to notice that the man seemed upset at the idea that his nephew might be dead; and some of the women cried out in horror. She felt it was in some small measure a revenge on their casting him out, and quickly said,

"No, he's not dead. Far from it! But Morrity Mulgan! Don't you think you should get your people in as soon as possible? And then you can tell us what brings you toiling up here in dead of winter!"

"Ah, that's a story and a half, Weyrwoman!" Morrity declared. "Yes, you are right, for sure – and it'll take a good few hours to get there."

"No it won't." Disagreed L'rilly. "I'll call down some young dragons to lift your family in, and your baggage. Unladen, the runner beasts will make it up the hill quicker: and I'll send down some people who have experience of them."

She asked Tamalenth to call up some weyrlings – after she had sent a personal call to Esruth! L'rilly had made sure to get to know the young Bronze well enough to be able to contact him if she needed to, even though Tamalenth might have to explain to him more fully. Zammo and Bubbles chattered happily on her shoulder to apprise her of his coming – then Esruth neatly swooped over the Seven Spindles and glided down. D're had not long been flying the young dragon, who was only some nine months old, and he was still glad of the excuse to undertake this exhilarating experience – especially at the behest of his favourite Weyrwoman! D're peered over Esruth's head, and exclaimed,

"Jays!"

Quickly he jumped to the ground, dextrous now on his wooden leg with its well-crafted joints and strode forward.

"Morrity? What do you want here?" he asked. "How could you bring the girls and those kiddies through this weather – you've plenty of places to over-winter!"

"Bronze rider?" Morrity was confused. "Not – not DAIRE?"

"No, Morrity – NOT Daire" D're removed his flying helmet, and grinned. "It's D're now. This is Esruth." He grinned soppily at his young partner. "Dragons don't care what deformities you have providing you can do your job."

His uncle flushed.

"Sure, and I thought it would be for the best not to drag you along!" he said angrily. "Jays, boy, what have they done to you – can these dragonfolk grow new legs?"

D're grinned. He decided not to let his family – his OLD family – know that his leg was made of wood. Not yet awhile, anyway! Let them think that dragons had extraordinary powers for the time being. He could show them later – and let them feel even more chagrin that they had abandoned him to his fate.

"Well, I'll not be holding grudges" he said in his lazy drawl. "For if you'd not dumped me out, I'd not have been here and I'd not have Impressed Esruth; and I'd not have for my woman the finest, sharpest, bravest, most beautiful and feistiest lady on all of Pern."

L'rilly blushed with pleasure at his praise; and one of the men in the group guffawed.

"What, brother mine, are you caught at last?"

"For sure I am, Barion. And truly glad of it. A good woman's the making of a great man!" he laughed, and put an arm around L'rilly's shoulders. "And is she not a jewel beyond price?" he asked. "Beauty, brains, and as lovely a right hook as I've ever seen landed on a loudmouth. And you should see her up there fighting Thread; 'tis a treat to behold her in action!"

L'rilly thought she heard a muttered "I'll bet" from one of the men and flushed. D're scowled.

"You'll keep a civil tongue in your head, I'm thinking, Teeg!" he said. "Unless you're wanting my lovely to lay you out." he added "And here come the others to be lifting you in."

III

Young dragons landed, and the operation commenced. It was swiftly accomplished, and with T'lana's and D're's help, the Runners were also quickly installed and fed. Soon the Mulgans were busy eating in Keerana's welcoming and warm kitchen. Most of them found it difficult to keep their eyes off D're, and particularly his leg. However, it was one of the children who asked,

"DID the dragons make you a new leg, uncle Daire – I mean, D're?"

D're twinkled.

"No, Ronnan, it was one of my fellow Bronze riders" he explained. "It's Weyrwoodman he is, and he's a fine man too." He rolled up his trouser leg and showed the beautifully carved leg, its carefully jointed ankle and the one way joint across the toe line that he could push up on to seem to go onto his toes, then fell back gently as he took the pressure off.

"Sure and it's a masterly piece of work;" he said "But H'llon tells me that any competent journeyman could do as good. So I could have had this even if I could not have coped on crutches – which I did – and worked still as a trader."

"You make your point – maybe we were wrong" snapped Morrity. "I thought it best for the family at the time. I called at Keogh Hold to see how you were going on, to see if you were fit enough to take back on."

"Generous" murmured D're.

The atmosphere thickened; and one of the young women snapped,

"Oh fardles take it, just shut it! You're upsetting Kaili!" she put her arm around a young, heavily pregnant girl who had to be her sister. D're grinned.

"Sure, I'm sorry Mirielle" he said. "And I meant what I said about not bearing grudges – I did pretty well out of it. Say, Kaili! I didn't even know you had a fellow – whose is the bulge?"

The girl burst into noisy tears.

"What have I said?" D're asked.

"D're, you have zero tact and less wit" declared L'rilly.

"Guilty" he admitted mournfully. "Hey, sis, tell me about it. Maybe I can help."

"It's part of the reason we're here" said Morrity. "It's an ugly tale – we thought the Weyr could help, or at least give us shelter over winter. We'd been staying with this Lord Aven…"

L'rilly said,

"Ah."

Morrity quirked an eyebrow.

"You're knowing him, I take it."

"By reputation – not personally." L'rilly said. "He's not known for his kindness, mercy or gentleness to women. Few Fax-spawn are."

"Well, we'd not heard his reputation." Morrity explained. "We went to trade – and he flattered y'sister. Sure and he knew how to do that, all along like a Ruathan Horse trader!"

D're gave a shout of laughter.

"Poor Kaili – you've just called her a prime filly!" he declared. Kaili swiped a blow at him, and he hugged her. "Calmly, little one – isn't your own sweet brother here to be sorting it out, now?" he asked.

"Wherry shit." She retorted.

"See, now, isn't that better that crying, for sure?" he teased her; and got a weak smile from the girl. "Go on Morrity." he added.

"Well, the long and the short of it is, he went further than she wanted, wouldn't stop when she begged him to and put her in the family way. Then we asked for compensation, and he whipped your brother and me and threw us out. Sure, we thought about going to Lord Bargen, but it's this Aven's word against ours. What Lord Holder's going to believe itinerant traders over a Lord in his own lands?"

"He'd fardling well better believe my kin" declared D're, grimly.

"I'd like to see it." Muttered his brother.

"I'D like to see," said L'rilly "Anyone having the temerity to doubt the given word of a Bronze Rider. D're, we will investigate this – so that no one shall say that it has not been looked into when the plaint was brought. Then we shall lay our findings before Lord Bargen."

"See? Full of fire" said D're, happily. "Leave it to us Morrity."

"There's the matter of our goods too" said the man truculently.

"Say on, uncle dear."

"We'd already brought in some cloths for sale when we asked for the child-price to help keep Kaili's babe. We knew he'd not pay compensation for rape, but it would have given her a good bride price if he'd coughed up. When he threw us out, he kept the cloth."

L'rilly's eyes lit up.

"I think that comes under common theft!" she declared happily. "We can do a lot here."

IV

D're refused to let L'rilly go with him to confront Aven. He was afraid that the man was likely to offer the Weyrwoman an insupportable insult; and that would cloud the issue. Besides, he did not want his lover to be upset. L'rilly raged at him of course; but he won her over by telling her how much he relied on her to look after his little sister Kaili – and Mirielle of course – while he was out of the Weyr. L'rilly knew it was an excuse, but she let him persuade her. It was, after all, more his business than hers; and L'rilly had grown canny enough to realise that if she capitulated in this matter she would have more ammunition in a disagreement that mattered more to her. Besides, she made him seduce an agreement from her – which was thoroughly enjoyable to both!

"Take care" she told him. "You're not the greatest diplomat alive."

"Pots" he said "And kettles, my love. Pots and kettles."

L'rilly was acquainted with the Ruathan saying about the pot calling the kettle black, and merely stuck her tongue out at him. As she then wiggled it provocatively, his departure was delayed; and L'gani just had to wait.

oOoOo

D're had, under due consideration, decided to ask L'gani to go with him, and to provide transport. He could have flown on Esruth, but only Straight; and he did not think that a tired Bronze not fully grown was a proper representative of the Weyr. He had considered asking H'llon; but the young man was apt to let his indignation get the better of him at times. L'gani had learned as Weyrsecond to handle situations with tact and discretion, though his fine seabred temper could emerge if he was pushed far enough. D're had been a little diffident asking L'gani; though he valued the man as a friend, he did wonder if the matter was too much below the attention of a Bronze rider and Weyrsecond. He suggested that he should perhaps have approached R'cal. L'gani had shaken his head.

"The matter of ill treatment is more a matter for the Hold, but since it has been brought to the Weyr it is better dealt with by someone with the authority to deal with it." He had told D're. "As it also involves a Bronze rider's kin, it cannot be thought strange that Bronze riders should investigate. I'm glad you've persuaded L'rilly not to go though. A Queenrider shouldn't have to put up with the insolences I dare swear we'll encounter from Fax-spawn." He added, "How by the first egg did you dissuade her?"

D're grinned.

"Sweet talk and love" he claimed. "Besides, she feels smug about conceding a victory to me. Not" he added hastily "That I'd tell you that if you and she hadn't been on close terms before."

L'gani grinned back.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to L'rilly – other than T'lana of course" he told his friend. "I'm really happy for both of you."

oOoOo

D're and L'gani returned in a really bad mood, and reported to T'bor before going off to see Lord Bargen. Their tempers had dissipated somewhat by the time they returned from that interview, and D're told L'rilly about it.

"Sure, the first thing he did when I got off Ragath was to call me down and call me a liar to L'gani and claim I'd stolen from him. Well, L'gani asks him when was this and he says; so L'gani asks me if I can go _**between**_ without a dragon, on account of it being unlikely I can leave the Weyr any other way, steal from this Aven, and be back again before I'm missed. Well Aven for sure asks what he means: and L'gani introduces me and tells the little shit where I've been the last year. This really upsets Aven who starts frothing at the mouth. That's when L'gani moves in smoothly with the information that it might be me uncle that Aven's met, and what more natural indeed that they should come to their Impressed relative to pour out their wrongs. And he'd be wanting an explanation if Lord Aven pleases." He grinned at L'rilly. "Well of course, Lord Aven DOESN'T please, and he hums and ha's and blusters and talks about interference."

"What happened then?" ssked L'rilly. D're gave her a wicked grin.

"Well, me lovely, that's when I puts my oar in so to speak, and tell L'gani that we should have gone all along to see Lord Bargen official like to get it sorted, rather than settle it as gentlemen" he sighed. "I thought it might come fine for sure about then, for Aven looks thoughtful. L'gani says there's a matter of some cloth, and a few matters of blood money for personal injury, not to mention the child; and then he comes the ugly. Seems he thinks he's the right to do what he likes on his own lands; and I'm afraid" he sighed again "I lost me temper. I'm fond of Kaili and she's just a kiddie really, only seventeen turns. And as for the humiliation of being whipped for me brother and uncle! I said a few things."

"And quite right too!" Agreed L'rilly warmly.

"Mebbe, but it riled him up too. He said a few things back, threatened to beat us too – which L'gani did NOT take kindly to, him being less used to taking Knocks from Holders than traders have to be. So we came away" he added regretfully, "I think L'gani would have duelled and killed him, but I'd got meself back under control by then and I didn't think T'bor would be best pleased. And he's been good enough to pretend he wasn't taken aback by me Impressing, so I guess I owe him. I respect the man."

"Well I wish L'gani HAD killed him!" disagreed L'rilly, her eyes sparking. "Threatening violence to a pair of Bronze riders – he must have taken leave of his senses!"

"Ay, I think you're right." D're nodded. "It's my belief he's so used to having his own way stuck out in that life-forsaken valley that if he's thwarted he just runs mad!"

"What did Lord Bargen say?" L'rilly wanted to know.

"Sure, he was furious. He's taken our sworn depositions; and he questioned me closely about what sort of men me brother and uncle are, and what sort of girl me sister. I was not happy at first as you can imagine, seemed he was calling them liars, but he explained it all, that he needs to know character to see if there could have been any exaggeration or provocation on their part because he needs to be fair to both sides. Strikes me it's a good man we have there."

L'rilly nodded. What little she knew of the Lord Holder was good; certainly T'lana had given good reports of him.

"So, what did he decide?"

"Well, after he'd heard the whole story, he agreed to pay compensation for himself and reimburse himself from Aven at his leisure. I'm thinking that he'll be making life uncomfortable for that son of the Red Star."

Zammo and Bubbles woke with a squawk and disappeared as he mentioned those fateful words, and D're apologised.

"Silly flutterbugs!" said L'rilly caressingly as they cautiously returned; and she and D're fussed them into contentment.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N Warning of minor character death_

Sh'rilla winter early 2521 – 1-08-2522

Sh'rilla had made it a special project of hers to help the crippled youngsters brought by D're – or Daire as he was at the time – to settle into the Weyr and find appropriate foster parents. It was only really Deela, the girl with the racking cough and Keeby, the lad who suffered from a joint-ail Masterhealer Oldive called Perth's disease who did not quickly settle to fostering or apprenticeships. There was also Silisse, the pigmentless girl who had no particular parent figure; but that was because so many people adored her for her sunny nature. Silisse had numerous aunties, and bestowed her love impartially on all of them. Keeby and Deela of course had spent a considerable period under Calla's care, and whilst all the women visited to see how they went on, it was not the same. Indeed, it was often in question whether Deela would survive the winter so ill as she was. Death was a part of life; Thread frequently claimed riders, especially those who were ageing and losing their edge, but the heartbreak of losing a child was not something anyone wished to open themselves up to.

oOoOo

As the days lengthened, both children improved in health, Deela's cough almost stopping, and Keeby's aches receding as he was able to warm his swollen knees in the strengthening sunshine. Sh'rilla appreciated the effect of pain, and spent as much time as she could with the lad and with Deela as well so she should not feel left out. She found the little girl one of the most sweet natured and uncomplaining people she had ever met and sounded off to T'kil about the unfairness of life.

"Keeby makes up for it though" he said to her after one such outburst. She smiled ruefully as her lover lifted her effortlessly into her bath.

"He's short tempered of course" she said. "It's hard not to be when you're in constant pain for no fault of your own. There's a lot of excuse."

T'kil agreed; but he did reflect that his own Sh'rilla had managed to remain sweet tempered most of the time despite her own pain. Good food, love, and the means to get around in the chair designed by T'lan and L'gani had done wonders for the girl; but frequent trips _**between**_ in her capacity as a Queenrider had caused the usual back and bladder problems that were less easily cured in the crippled girl than in a normally healthy dragonrider. Calla had placed Sh'rilla on a special diet that went a long way to easing such problems, and T'kil was glad to rub her back frequently but he did feel a protective concern for her. Of course, if things got bad, she could always undertake more administrative duties and leave fighting Thread to others and still do more than Jora had in the old days at Benden – but Sh'rilla loved to fly, and was proud of being able, with Daenilth's superior manoeuvrability, to perform as well as any Queenrider from her special saddle.

Meanwhile T'kil was happy to welcome Keeby as a foster son; and used his experience of working with weyrlings to point out gently to the boy the virtues of self control. In truth, Keeby was finding it easier than he had ever done before to behave well. To anyone else, the pain he lived with would have been terrible; but to Keeby it was relatively trivial. The fish oil applied inside and out was easing the joints, and being well cared for improved his general state of health. He told T'kil so.

"I'll try and be good" he said. "It doesn't hurt much at all now I've got someone to look after me and lots to eat and enough clothes. I'm glad you don't think I'm a – a – waste of resources."

"Who would say that you might be?" wondered T'kil. The boy shrugged.

"My father" he said. "I was a nuisance because I cried all the time so it was a waste giving me much. But I didn't die like I was supposed to."

T'kil ground his teeth and privately hoped for ten minutes alone with the boy's father some day. He patted the lad on the shoulder.

"Well you know what we think at High Reaches" he said. "All people are valuable. Some just need more looking after than others; and some show their talents in different ways than others. Keeby, lad, if you can do nothing else, you understand pain like few other people and you can help reassure children who are ill, and weyrlings Threadscored for the first time. But I reckon you'll find that because you have to concentrate your mind to stop the pain winning you'll probably be a great Logicator, or surpass T'lan in her blasted mathematics!"

Keeby grinned. He was touched that the Bronze rider had evidently thought deeply about pain and how to cope with it. Of course it was mostly because of Sh'rilla, but it was kind of him to apply the thinking to his new fosterling too.

oOoOo

It came as no surprise to anyone when Daenilth rose early in the summer that she should be flown by T'kil's Shath. T'kil and Sh'rilla consolidated their love in the heat of dragonlust, and woke to klah and meat rolls brought by Keeby and Deela. Sh'rilla hugged them both enthusiastically and thanked them; and T'kil worked on ways to get rid of them tactfully so he could assuage the different kind of hunger Sh'rilla aroused in him!

oOoOo

As the summer wore on, it became increasingly obvious that Daenilth was not the only one to display her fertility. Sh'rilla was lucky enough to experience no morning sickness, but the moment she missed her monthly bleeding she consulted Calla. Calla was concerned; but not enough to put the girl off. T'kil was delighted; and so were the children. Deela was frail but determined to help all she could –subject, Sh'rilla insisted, to Calla's approval – and Keeby was glad of a family he'd feel part of when it was made clear that this child was not replacing either of them, but just another member of the family.

"In fact" Sh'rilla confessed, "I shall have to foster the baby. You two are old enough not to need anything done for you except when you're ill; and then you're old enough to accept that I'm limited and we have to put you with Calla."

Keeby nodded, but Deela asked wistfully,

"Can't we keep the baby if Keeby and I help?"

Sh'rilla shook her head.

"If you were both fit I'd consider it" she said "But it's not practical. But I've spoken to Lanelly and she says she'll gladly foster baby as I'm almost a foster child of hers and T'lan's."

Deela chuckled at the idea of Sh'rilla being a sort of foster child of T'lana's; at nearly eleven turns she had a better idea than little Keeby of the virtually non-existent age gap between the two Queenriders. Keeby looked puzzled. He still found it sometimes difficult to accept in a more than academic way that grown-ups had parents and weren't all the same ancient age. He had a vague idea that T'lana was too young to be Sh'rilla's foster mother but it was all very confusing.

oOoOo

Summer, and Sh'rilla's pregnancy, progressed against a backdrop of D're's courtship of L'rilly and Zaira's shy pursuit of H'llon. Sh'rilla was glad that it was T'lan that L'rilly ran to with her troubles; fond as she had become of her fellow Queenrider, she found L'rilly's volatile outbursts difficult to cope with. She was glad to let T'lana deal with them. She was also glad to let T'lana deal with the growing number of female Greenriders, which had blossomed rather suddenly with Segrith's last clutch. Sh'ranis had Impressed, much to the delight of the other children of what was still known as 'D're's fair' – and of course HIS Impression had also been popular with them. M'rian, the seabred widow was a close friend of Sh'ranis despite a difference in age of several years; and three others had also Impressed.

No one had been surprised that seventeen year old Linna had become L'nna; as K'len's sister it had seemed a likely development. She was the first of his sisters to stand on the Hatching ground, but Sh'rilla had little doubt that the next three younger ones would do so too. The other two girls who had Impressed had wanted to escape from intolerable situations outside the Weyr; T'alla had been seabred like M'rian; she had also lost her father, and she and her mother had become Holdless for a want of relatives to take them in. Her mother, Tylisse, had suggested coming to the Weyr, and Tyalla – as she then was – had agreed. The girl had been surprised – and overjoyed – to Impress Seelith, and the deep depression that she had been suffering had largely evaporated. She had forged an unlikely friendship with R'iana, who as Reliana had left home and called upon L'rilly as her kinswoman to take her in. R'iana had been one of Lord Groghe's side issues; and in fact she had appealed to the crusty Lord Holder to present her for Impression. He had had her flown to High Reaches Weyr under his favourites, T'lana and L'rilly rather than taking her to Fort Weyr. N'ton had not extended the Impression of Green dragons to female candidates; and Groghe felt that his daughter should have a wider choice than just Queens! He appeared to have been vindicated, since Greeth had bawled her way into R'iana's arms and overjoyed the girl, whose expectations had not been high as her main motivations had been to escape from the man her mother wanted her to marry! Hatchings were, reflected Sh'rilla, always exciting; and now she had her own beloved Daenilth's clutch to look forward to!

oOoOo

Sh'rilla kept a shrewd eye on the female candidates for Daenilth's thirty-four eggs. Jenara, she approved of whole-heartedly since L'rilly had proposed her; and she was easier in her mind about Bellova since the girl settled down. Zaira of course was now a fixture, but like everyone else Sh'rilla anticipated that the girl would go several years until a Queen egg became available for her. Dealla and Merella she cordially detested; and had intended to intervene until R'gar told her to let the other candidates sort them out.

"We can't protect them too much" he told her. "After all – we can't protect them up there when they fly Thread. Rather we should be backup if they CAN'T deal with those little minxes – support that they know they can rely on if all else fails. Like the Weyr support staff. We'd not function without them – but we'd all resent Calla checking on every minor ailment, say."

Sh'rilla nodded. She took his point. Most of the candidates seemed in any case to ignore the spoiled brats, but Jenara was vulnerable. However, Bellova and Zaira seemed to be pooling resources with her well enough! The other candidates were a mixed bag – Prisca had failed to Impress the previous time but was too bone idle to do any real work. The only two who had any hope, Shevanne and Rianna, were from totally different backgrounds yet had settled down to work with cheerful zest. Sh'rilla grinned. It was unfortunate that Rianna should have a name rather close to the contraction R'iana in pronunciation; one had to be careful to say the long aa sound of the latter. The dragons at least could tell the difference; and that was what really counted. None of the other candidates, Sh'rilla felt, were worth even considering. Why, some of them were even afraid of dragons! They had just used Search as an excuse to get a more comfortable life working in the Weyr after hatching was over – but as it brought in new blood, it was not to be worried about too much.

oOoOo

Hatching was everything Sh'rilla could have hoped for. T'kil, Keeby and Deela stayed with her on the level as Impression took place, and although the view was not perhaps as good as one from the tiers which overlooked the cavern Sh'rilla really felt a part of it. The drama that accompanied the Impression of J'nara and B'lova was, to be sure, a trifle marring to the experience, but their faces more than made up for B'lova's mother's outbursts and the fear that the girl should be badly hurt. The smallest lad, M'sell Impressed the largest Bronze, Chanath, and was cheered and yodelled by those seaholdbred boys who had previously been teasing him. M'sell was plainly walking on air and left in a flurry of much bigger boys with or without dragonets. Sh'rilla saw H'llon congratulate him, and his Impressed friends, and told T'kil that she was sure the lad had grown several inches! T'kil chuckled. At his side, Keeby heaved a deep sigh, echoed by Deela.

"It's all over." Keeby's tone was regretful.

"I wish I was old enough." added Deela.

"Me too." Keeby was not to be outdone.

"You will be, one day." T'kil told them, though privately he doubted either would ever be healthy enough. Still, no point in disappointing them yet.

Keeby gave him a quizzical look.

"You don't believe that, sir." He said, lapsing into formality. "You think we won't grow up strong."

"It remains to be seen." T'kil refused to lie. Sh'rilla put in,

"No one can tell the future, Keeby. You've got a lot better. Maybe you'll never improve any more; but don't rule out the dream of riding a dragon. It is not impossible."

Keeby hugged her. Deela looked wistful, but said nothing.

oOoOo

Later, at bedtime, Sh'rilla took time to chat with Deela.

"What is it, sweeting?" She asked. "Your cough hardly ever troubles you now. You'll take a long time to get well, but it will be a long time before you're old enough to try for Impression anyway."

Deela looked up at her foster mother, her eyes still too dark in her little face. She spoke solemnly as she always did.

"I don't think I'm going to get better properly, Sh'rilla."

"What nonsense is this?" Sh'rilla asked gently. Deela shook her head.

"It's not nonsense. I feel this lump when I try to breathe. It's easier than it was but it's still there. And even in the warm, I think it's getting worse. I keep wanting to cough, but I stop myself and that hurts."

Sh'rilla cuddled the child, and told her she'd speak to Calla; and Deela went to sleep obediently after kissing Sh'rilla's little bump goodnight.

Sh'rilla, in consultation with Calla, asked Master Oldive to give an opinion. The Masterhealer duly called and examined the little girl; and when he spoke to Sh'rilla his face was grave.

"When I first saw her, I thought she'd have a good chance if she only got through the winter. But there's something more than just a disease causing her coughing; and I don't know what to do for it. She's a fighter or she'd have died long ago, but I can't hold out any great hopes."

Sh'rilla went white. She had become very attached to the little girl in a short time, and they had made plans together for the future – Deela's and the baby's.

"Did you say anything to her?" she asked. He shook his head.

"But she's a perceptive lassie" he told her. "I think she knows."

Deela knew. She looked up as Sh'rilla came in, and fear lurked in her eyes.

"I'm going to die, aren't I?" she asked.

Sh'rilla put her arms around her, unable to trust herself to speak. Deela said,

"Dragons go _**between** _when the pain gets too bad. Will Daenilth take me if my pain gets too bad?"

Wordlessly Sh'rilla nodded. She resolved that however long Deela had, she and T'kil were going to do everything they could to make it as happy as possible.

oOoOo

Deela spent most of the autumnal days being taken to visit her favourite places by her foster parents, especially those places in reach of straight flight. They were determined to give her as happy a time as possible; and they often succeeded in helping her to forget how ill she more frequently felt. T'kil had had a man – to – man talk with Keeby; and the boy accepted that his foster sister's needs came first. If he felt at all resentful, he kept it to himself; but he was a fair boy despite his youth and realised that they would have done the same for him. Thus, he did his bit to keep Deela amused on the days they went out as a family, and when she was laid up in bed.

These bedridden days became more and more frequent as Sh'rilla ballooned. She felt very torn between the joy for the new life within her and her grief over the incurable sickness of her fosterling. She tried to keep cheerful for the children; and it was with T'kil that she cried.

Of course, the whole Weyr rallied round and did what they could; but beyond showing support there was little that could be done.

oOoOo

It was on a cold day in the New Year that Deela lapsed into unconsciousness; and in a way Sh'rilla was glad. At least the little girl was no longer in pain; nor did she have to be disturbed to be taken _**between**_ as Sh'rilla had promised if it had become unbearable. Two days later the child died quietly; and Sh'rilla howled inconsolably. She was no stranger to grief and loss, but it still seemed wrong to her that children should die.

oOoOo

It was barely a sevenday later that Sh'rilla's labour started; and it was a hard one. T'kil went about looking like a ghost, wondering if he was to lose his weyrmate and his baby as well as his foster daughter. Keeby followed him around, limping, and they repaired to Shath's weyr together in shared fear after T'lana, Calla and Pilgra had turned them out of Sh'rilla's weyr. There they were joined by T'rin, who was in at least as bad a state as they!

oOoOo

Shath woke T'kil later after he and Keeby had drifted into exhausted sleep.

"_Mirrith's rider says you and the boy may come and see your son"_ he said laconically.

"What about Sh'rilla? Is she all right?" T'kil was aware his voice was cracking from strain.

"_Sh'rilla wants you. Daenilth is being silly"_ the big Bronze sent disgusted pictures of Daenilth trying to see the baby and getting stuck in the sleeping room entrance. T'kil smiled despite himself, and wakened Keeby and T'rin to tell them, at last, some good news.

Sh'rilla was exhausted, but delighted to see her men folk. T'kil gingerly took the baby boy from her and gazed into the unfocused baby eyes of his son.

"We never got around to discussing a name." He said.

"I – I thought" began Sh'rilla carefully "That although it is more traditional to combine our names, that we might honour Deela by calling him something like Deelan."

T'kil felt tears prick his eyes.

"No – not quite that direct." He said. "What do you think, Keeby?"

Keeby frowned, concentrating. He saw what T'kil meant. It would make him cry too if his foster brother's name was too much like Deela's; but he liked the idea of remembering her through the baby's name.

"Shadeel." He suggested. "I can't fit anything from T'kil; it doesn't sound right."

"Shadeel it is then." Agreed T'kil.

_A/N Perthes disease is a painful and debilitating childhood disease which improves when growth has slowed down. Keeby is going to be a perfectly normal child when he is over this painful period. _


	8. Chapter 8

L'rilly part 2 middle month 12-2521 – end month 3-2522

V

In the meantime, L'rilly was doing what she could to make D're's sisters comfortable and to help young Kaili through the last part of her pregnancy. The young Queenrider reflected a trifle bitterly on the irony of this unwanted pregnancy and her own desires to give D're children of his own. She only realised how unwanted the baby might be when Kaili asked her,

"Weyrwoman – would it be possible to take me _**between**_ to kill this thing in my belly?"

L'rilly looked horrified.

"At this late date? Shells, girl, you don't know what you're asking! For one thing it'd not spare you the pain of birth, indeed it'd likely be worse for you'd be ill of it; and for another, it might not kill the baby outright or even at all. T'lana went_ **Between**_ at about the same time – or maybe a little before – because Mirrith decided to take her to the Healer Hall without worrying about her boys. She'd been hurt you see" L'rilly explained "And Mirrith is very level headed. Anyway, her boys were born and they were small but they lived. Now I think" she amended "That T'lana had started into labour before Mirrith took her; but I don't know that it would make a lot of odds."

Kaili pulled a face.

"If only I'd known that Dai – D're – had Impressed earlier I might have been rid of it then" she said glumly.

"As it is I'm afraid that's life" sympathised L'rilly, putting an awkward arm around the girl. "Don't you feel that you can love your baby and forget the father?"

"NO!" the girl cried. "I'll remember him every time I see the brat! I want to shake it loose as soon as possible so I can strangle it!" Viciously she shook the bulge of her belly and shook her fist in the air. L'rilly exclaimed in protest, and she said, "What's up? It's my body, and I'll do what I like to it! I'd cut it out if I knew I'd not hit anything vital that's me own!"

L'rilly gulped and made herself be calm. This girl was even more hysterical than she had ever been – though L'rilly wondered if she too might have reacted in a similar way in her rather volatile youth. She said,

"Kaili, would it help to renounce the baby altogether – and give it to me to foster? I've been trying to have D're's baby but I don't think it's going to happen. I'd really like to foster his niece or nephew if you'' do me the favour of bearing him or her for me."

Kaili stared at her.

"You WANT to go through this?" she was incredulous.

"I'd take any discomfort or pain for D're. I love him" ssseverated L'rilly.

"I'd not have to have anything to do with it?"

"Not if you didn't want to. I would be grateful of your milk until I found a milk mother if I can't arrange that first" L'rilly told her.

The girl shrugged.

"There's no way to dislodge the brat. I dare say uncle Morrity'd be irritable if I killed it anyway" she said. "If you really want it – then I'd never have to see it again."

"Unless you were visiting your brother. But then you could pretend he or she was our own baby and nothing to do with you if you wanted."

"Perhaps" Kaili's tone was guarded. "Fine. It's yours, weyrwoman."

"I wish you'd call me L'rilly, sister. I am your brother's woman."

"But for how long?" the girl asked, and walked off before L'rilly could reply.

oOoOo

It appeared that Morrity was also concerned about the permanence of the relationship when Kaili told him of the arrangement between herself and L'rilly. He came to see the Queenrider.

"Beggin' y'pardon, Weyrwoman" he began "But here's young Kaili tellin' me that you're wantin' to be fostering of her baby because of it bein' related like to D're."

"Yes, that's so" confirmed L'rilly. "As Kaili seems not to want the child, and as I've not been able to have one, it appeared to be a reasonable arrangement."

"Sure, and normally that'd be fine" Morrity seemed uncomfortable. "But under the circumstances…"

L'rilly heaved a deep sigh.

"Are our lifestyles so very much more hazardous than living Holdless?" she asked rhetorically. "We're trained to take care – and we can fight back against Thread. Sure, people die sometimes" she winced, thinking of Tath – "But the likelihood of both D're and me dying is low. Queenriders too fight in the lower layers, when most of Thread has been caught by the Sweeps above. It's deliberate – the loss of a Queen upsets dragons even more than ordinary losses."

Morrity twisted his hands together.

"'Tis not what I was meaning" he said. "I'm not one to be bothering over dangerous lifestyles. You have to face death to live truly. I'm talking about Weyr relationships – I mean if you break up from D're, is the poor little one going to be shunted off on someone else?"

L'rilly's brows came together, and Morrity took a step back; but when she spoke she had herself under control.

"Apart from the fact that I have no intention of ever letting D're go" she said carefully "You plainly misunderstand Weyr attitudes. Sure we have a more – relaxed – way of considering temporary liaisons than Holderfolk. We have to – dragon choice makes it necessary. However, that has nothing to do with our fosterlings. In fact, I would have said that our fosterlings are less affected by parental bed hopping than in Hold or Craft because it is treated as normal, and does not place stress on a relationship. Few Weyrwomen look after their own children or any small children – our duties are extensive. I should have had, probably, to have my own baby fostered although I would expect to take a part in his or her upbringing. As it is, the circumstances are unusual; but I shall not have had the physical drain of giving birth and I know I can rely on plenty of help from my friends. The baby will have plenty of people to turn to as well as me as a mother in case I or – worse, my dragon, dies" – she gulped – "And I am left a mental cripple. Although with two firelizards and D're's love, I'd have a good chance of a partial recovery. I don't want to think about that." She added firmly. "But, even if D're and I split up, which I doubt, why should it make me give up my fosterling? Especially as he or she would be a reminder of good times shared."

Morrity scratched his head.

"Well, sure and if that's how it works…"

"That's how it works" she said firmly.

"Then, it's thanking you I am for relieving my mind and Kaili's; for she's taken it all cruel hard."

L'rilly could not rid herself of the vision of the girl's expression of hate as she shook her belly and nodded; and took Morrity's hand as he offered it to her to shake upon the agreement.

VI

As Kaili grew fatter and crosser over the next few days, L'rilly began to suspect that she might herself be pregnant at last! However, she had little time to consider her own feelings of sickness, for she and Mirielle were the only two people that Kaili wanted to see, and she became extremely lachrymose if left alone. L'rilly tried to involve her in helping with Tamalenth, and suggested tentatively that the girl might like to consider Impression. Kaili was not apparently afraid of the big Golden dragon; but she was most definitely against the idea of Impression. Her incoherent protests, when untangled basically boiled down to the idea that she would be forced by any dragon she Impressed into endless rape. Her preconceptions both of Weyr life and of sex itself were too firmly held for L'rilly to be able to explain things without the girl going into hysterics. Under the circumstances, L'rilly gave up, especially since Kaili's attitude to Tamalenth was one of total indifference. Mirielle was a different story; though quieter than her sister she was nonetheless self assured, and awed to be around dragons. She helped scrub and oil Tamalenth with a will, and told L'rilly wistfully that she wished she could stay.

"Why don't you then?" asked L'rilly bluntly. Mirielle shrugged.

"I'll need to take care of Kaili" she said. "I have done ever since mother and father died."

"Fardles." L'rilly said shortly. "The girl's big enough to take care of herself. In any Hold family she'd probably be married by now. Especially if her parents were smallholders. You're barely two turns older than her, D're tells me – and it's about time you did what you want. She scarcely needs washing and dressing like a small child, and you're doing her no favours by letting her lean on you. She needs to grow up."

"But she's so vulnerable – look at her getting pregnant, for sure!"

"Because she was flattered by that son of the Red Star and led him on too far – sure, if he'd been decent, he'd have stopped, but what you've all said leads me to suppose she was old enough to want to flirt. You feel guilty because you didn't stop her – so you feel you owe her. You don't. She's learned a very hard lesson; it's unfortunate, but you can't blame yourself. You're too young to have to have the responsibility for a wherry brained flighty piece like that. And to my mind, she should have been taken in hand by your aunt Jervla, not left to your handling." L'rilly had discussed the family with T'lana and some of the blunt opinions she had formed had been as a result of the little Weyrwoman's pointed questioning. L'rilly, once sensitive to bluntly put opinions was finding that they did strike to the heart of the matter and made people think – even if the comments might be temporarily uncomfortable! Mirielle indeed looked angry and uncomfortable in turn; and finally a tear trickled down her face. Angrily she dashed it away.

"She was only eight turns when they got caught out in Fall" she explained "And she'd not have anything to do with anyone but Daire and meself. See, our eldest sister Jeerdria is a good ten turns her senior, and she'd just started going with cousin Fercas. She didn't want the responsibility of seeing to a kiddie when she might be starting her own family. Besides, she never did get on with Kaili – Jeerdria will nag so! And Barion, he's two turns younger than her, he was just a lad. Daire was much closer to us in age, or so it seemed then, though for sure there's but two, three turns between him and Barion. But he could make her laugh. Daire – D're – has always been able to make people laugh. Well, except Jeerdria, but I think she believes that laughing causes stomach cramps or something."

L'rilly grinned.

"Yes, I've met people like that. But Mirielle! What about your aunt?"

"Oh, for sure, Aunt Jervla always took care of us from Barion downwards, and so did aunt Soraka for she's no childer of her own. That's not too surprising though for she's as sour as Jeerdria's going to be. Daire drove her half to distraction, as I'm sure you can imagine! But Kaili always came to me."

L'rilly laughed at the thought of D're as a child, irritating a mirthless maiden aunt. She said,

"Yes, I'm sure he was a handful. And your cousins are about his age and yours, aren't they?"

"Yes. Teeg's now twenty-three, a little older than D- D're. He's married to Yewna, who's also a distant cousin. Kinnete's my age, at nineteen turns. It was hard for Jervla, you know."

L'rilly snorted.

"I concede that – but stop trying to make excuses for everybody! You were there for Kaili when she needed you most – so now live a little for yourself. Catch up on some of that childhood you had robbed from you as a weyrling. We girls know how to enjoy ourselves between fall – and there are the dragons too of course!"

Mirielle's face softened.

"Yes." She said.

There was a sudden wail as Kaili came in obviously having heard the last few sentences.

"You're going to leave me for the Weyr – Oh Mirielle, don't you love me? I couldn't bear it if you weren't there!" she cried. "I NEED you! I shan't let you stay!" petulantly she stamped her foot. Mirielle went to her and put an arm around her.

"Of course I love you allanah!" she said.

"Yes" said L'rilly "At the moment. Kaili! Listen to me!"

The girl looked at her resentfully.

"You're trying to steal my sister" she said. L'rilly controlled herself with difficulty.

"I'm trying to persuade your sister to do – for once in her life – what SHE wants to do" she said. "You are an adult. Your sister and D're call you a kiddie – but there's plenty of girls your age married with families and running households. And if you continue to whine about needing your sister all the time, the day will come that, instead of loving you and wanting to be with you she will resent you and learn to dislike you for the spoiled brat you are becoming. I know – I didn't behave too well when I was your age, and the longer it takes you to realise it, the more painful the lesson is. I nearly killed my friend and myself in a jealous rage. Don't, Kaili, I implore you, let yourself get to that state" she went over to the girl and put an arm around her shoulders, firmly enough for the shrug Kaili gave not to shake it off. "We all recognise" she said kindly "That this horrid experience and being unwieldy and uncomfortable are bad for the temper; but I'd be unfair to you and D're and Mirielle if I didn't tell you this."

Kaili shrugged herself into a ball.

"I don't like you" she said.

"We rarely do like the people who tell us rather forceful home truths" said L'rilly dryly. "I hated Pilgra and T'lana for ages."

The girl blinked and stared open mouthed.

"But you're always with them!" She said.

"I grew up – rather forcibly" L'rilly told her dryly. "You can do the same – or end up like aunt Soraka."

"WELL!" exploded Kaili. "How DARE you compare me to that sour, whining old biddy?"

Mirielle looked thoughtful.

"Do you remember when we were little, she was always clinging to mother – and after mother died, she said she couldn't think why she'd had a pack of brats when she had father and her as kin?" she asked. Kaili looked stricken; and fled the room.

"I don't know that I will stay at the Weyr" mused Mirielle "But I will return. She may need me to adjust."

"If you once stay with her, you'll never leave I think."

Mirielle shook her head.

"She's had a shock – she didn't realise how like aunt Soraka she's become. And nor did I until you made me think about it. One way or the other, I WILL join the Weyr."

L'rilly embraced the girl whom she had begun to think of as a sister, and went to tell the glad news to D're.

VII

It was noticeable that Kaili tried her hardest to be less demanding after that; and two days later she came quietly to L'rilly and Mirielle with a very white face.

"I think I'm starting" she said in a scared, sick little voice.

"Then it's time to come to Calla." L'rilly told her. "Tamalenth will carry us all there. I know it's not far, but I imagine you don't feel much like walking?"

Kaili shook her head, and gave L'rilly a grateful little smile.

oOoOo

Eight hours later, L'rilly had to leave to fly Fall, for it was warm enough over the coast not to freeze to blackdust, crackdust. L'rilly was loath to go, for Calla was tired. The recent death of little Deela, and Sh'rilla's subsequent birthing had put a strain on the healing staff as well as the worry felt by all Sh'rilla's friends. Moreover an epidemic of fever had seen some of the fittest young riders flying medicines about, and Calla was concerned about the illness spreading to the Weyr. However, duty called, and L'rilly went, flying the pattern she and T'lana had evolved to take advantage of her own left handedness. L'rilly never flew Thread without being grateful that her tiny friend had realised why she had so much difficulty with a flamethrower and showing her how to use it leading with her left hand. She returned aching and stinking of agenothree, and rushed with D're to see how things were progressing as soon as Tamalenth had been made comfortable.

The sight that met her eyes had L'rilly blinking; for beside Kaili was not one baby but two!

"Eh, you're as bad as T'lan, you!" she joshed. "What are they?"

"One of each." Kaili was exhausted. "So you can take your pick. Dunno what to do with the other though." She looked inclined to cry again, and L'rilly shushed her.

"I'll take them both, sister. I'll manage – though I'll rely heavily on my friends. A pact is a pact, I'd not leave you with one because you brought forth a bargain bundle from that trader's pack of yours!"

That sally made Kaili chuckle, and she brightened.

"Oh L'rilly, I don't hate you, only it is going to be horrid without Mirielle!"

L'rilly touched her arm.

"Why don't you stay here as a guest for a while and then rejoin your family at a later date? That way you can have the company of your favourite brother and sister and have a rest to get over all the unpleasantness."

"But… I'd have to see THEM." She indicated the babies.

"Surely; but they're your niece and nephew now. And you'd not see much of them. It's a big place. There are plenty of other babies around too – and as they all look like hairless Lord Groghe's anyway, how'd you know which was which?"

Kaili managed another laugh.

"I'll think about it." She said.

oOoOo

L'rilly threw herself wholeheartedly into caring for Lassari and Keeran, as she and D're decided to call the twins. She was grateful to accept help from Lanelly and T'lana, and also from Mirielle who took a deep interest in her new niece and nephew; for despite her initial enthusiasm, she soon found out how tiring small babies could be! There was, too, a continuous nagging pain deep in the Queenrider's belly as well as the sickness, and the girl began to wonder if what she had been wondering was a baby within her might just have something wrong with it. Part of her longed to ignore the pain, pretend it did not exist and hope it would go away – but she had grown up enough to recognise the foolishness of this. She determined to consult Calla.

Calla asked blunt and personal questions; and blushing furiously, L'rilly gave answers as full as she could. Calla frowned.

"I don't think you're pregnant at all" she said. "I don't know what's wrong. I think you should go down to the Healer Hall and ask Master Oldive. I don't know enough to say what causes your pain since it doesn't appear to be the usual reasons. You look peaky – and it's not just the late nights with hungry infants. You've lost weight, my girl, and I don't like it."

"Slim is good for a Queenrider" protested L'rilly.

"Slim, yes. Skinny, no. You're dropping below what is healthy or I know nothing. You'll go see Oldive."

L'rilly murmured assent and went in search of D're. He held her close as she blurted out what Calla had said.

"Sure, sweetie, you're always the most beautiful woman on Pern" he said, "But I've been a little worried myself about you losing so much weight. I didn't like to say anything, though for I thought it was worry over the babies."

L'rilly shook her head, tears in her eyes.

"I'm scared, D're" she confessed. He kissed her.

"With me to help you out? Sure, Master Oldive'll know what to do" he soothed her, stroking her golden hair as she leaned against his protective chest. "I'll look after you."

oOoOo

L'rilly really intended to go and see Master Oldive, but her duties kept her busy for several days. When she fainted clean away after a sharp little cry of pain, D're took matters into his own hands and demanded that R'gar himself transport the sick girl to the Healer Hall. R'gar was only too happy; he and T'lan were horrified that L'rilly had been concealing pain from them.

"She should not even have been doing full duties!" R'gar scolded. "If you knew, you should have made her take it easy and go sooner!"

D're raised an eyebrow.

"MADE?" he queried. R'gar gave him a fulminating look.

"I never noticed you had much trouble making her mind." He growled. D're pulled a face.

"She doesn't like to let people down" he said. "She's almost obsessive about it."

R'gar grunted. Since L'rilly had flamed T'lana the girl had often seemed that she wanted to make up for her previously bad behaviour by doing more than her share. He and T'lana had often told her that it was unnecessary, but it did not affect the way the girl felt. Whilst in some ways it was admirable, times like now it only caused trouble!

oOoOo

L'rilly submitted to Master Oldive's exhaustive and embarrassing examination with unwonted meekness. The Masterhealer looked grave.

"Queenrider, the news is not good" he told her. "There is no way of breaking it easily. You have a growth within you."

L'rilly paled.

"What does that mean? And can you do anything?"

Oldive took a deep breath.

"If nothing is done, the growth will get bigger and bigger, causing more and more pain until you need to be sedated all the time on Fellis. There is only one thing that can be done – and that is not guaranteed to work" he seemed wary.

"What is it?" it was D're who spoke impatiently, holding L'rilly's hand tightly.

Oldive cleared his throat.

"The only treatment I know" he said carefully "Is to cut the patient open and cut away the growth."

"So when can you do it?" asked D're. Oldive looked stunned.

"Many people hate the idea of being subjected to surgical operations" he said. L'rilly's eyes flashed.

"Yes – like my grandfather's mother who would not let you save her husband's life by doing a simple operation to remove his appendix. Foolishness! Why, Calla has performed that operation quite safely several times in my recollection. My grandfather has often spoken out against foolish superstition that prevents the cure of the sick and the increase of learning!" she sank back against D're, tired by her outburst, her eyes still glittering with anger. Master Oldive smile a thin smile.

"Then I will operate tomorrow, Queenrider, if you give consent" he said. "As I said, I cannot guarantee that the growth will not return – but I can guarantee that without it you will die painfully."

"We're convinced." Growled D're. "Just do the fardling operation."

VIII

L'rilly drifted warmly out of the Fellis-induced sleep under which she had had her operation. Her side felt sore, very sore, but the deep, nauseating pain had gone. She struggled to open up her heavy lids. She was rewarded by the sight of D're.

"Awake, my lovely?" he asked. "No, don't try to speak – I'll just be telling you that I love you, then you can have a proper sleep."

L'rilly managed a watery smile, and let the heavy lassitude overcome her again.

oOoOo

Later, when L'rilly woke properly, D're was instantly at her side again. This time she was able to smile properly and reached out a hand. He took it, smiling tenderly, and stroked her fingers.

"Now you're with us again, I'm afraid I'll have to go" he told her regretfully. "Esruth does need me to see to him – but good news, love!" he grinned. "Master Oldive says that you were lucky in where the growth was, and he thinks you shouldn't have any more problems – but I'll let him explain it." he kissed her.

"Must you go immediately?" she asked wistfully. D're shook his head.

"I can stay for a while, love" he said. "But I cannot make it long."

L'rilly pulled a face, but acknowledged the unpleasant fact philosophically. Esruth was not a full turn old yet, and needed his rider. Also there were the twins – and she would have Zammo and Bubbles to keep her company. They sat now on the end of her bed, crooning softly.

"Kiss Lassari and Keeran for me" she whispered as D're left; and he nodded, curtly, to hide his emotion.

oOoOo

Master Oldive's explanation was complex; but L'rilly gathered that the gist of it was that the growth had been in such a place as to cause her maximum early pain, which was a good thing because it had been able to be excised completely before it got too big. Also Oldive told her that she had a chance of having children, since he had not had to cut away her womb. However, he warned her not to try for at least a year.

"What about loving?" she asked, bluntly.

"If you feel like it, it will probably do you no harm – if it's gentle" he pulled a face. "I know there's little chance of that in dragonlust, but I understand from your weyrmate that you've a way of holding back. I already spoke to him – he understands the need to be gentle."

L'rilly smiled mistily. D're was so much more gentle than she could ever have imagined when she had first met him!

oOoOo

Over the next days, L'rilly learned how many people loved her enough to come and visit; and she was overwhelmed. Her surrogate family of T'lana and R'gar and their adopted kin were of course regulars; Pilgra and even T'bor dropped by, Sh'allen begged a lift from R'cal and her grandfather came to see her almost every day with news and trivia from the Hold. Mirielle left the Weyr to be with her sister-in-law de facto, and even Kaili braved a dragon flight to see how L'rilly was! T'rin had come down with R'cal and Sh'allen too, and had organised shifts of boys to care for Tamalenth while L'rilly was incapacitated, a courtesy the girl appreciated the more for knowing how much the boy had resented and disliked her when he was first apprenticed. T'rin shrugged that off now; he had come to like the new L'rilly over time, and she was besides a friend of his adored sister Sh'rilla and foster mother T'lana. All in all L'rilly felt very moved at the extent of the support she was shown, and could not help contrasting this visit to the Healercraft Hall with the unloved, lonely existence she had been leading when last there! True, Faylina had been inclined to be stand-offish, remembering the brat that young Lirilly had been; but even she had thawed. And the day that L'rilly was allowed home, to the cheers and salutations of what seemed to be the entire Weyr, she could not help but weep for joy.


	9. Chapter 9

Elissa passing over time from 2520 to 3-03-2522

Elissa was deliriously happy!

She had never ever thought that she would be permitted an actual apprenticeship as a wood crafter; but she had been under the tuition of Weyrwoodcrafter Journeyman Bronze Rider H'llon for two turns now, and had learned to turn a hobby into a real skill. She and her fellow apprentices, Radall and Telfer, got on very well despite the wide age differences between them, and formed an enthusiastic part of the Logicator team!

Life had even got better – which was why she was so excited. H'llon had told her that he was going to show her how to make leaves of paper. Elissa hugged herself in sheer delight! The boys were not interested; but she knew that if she could help by turning out even small and low grade leaves, she could be a real help – and demonstrate to her parents that she could be useful to the Weyrwoodcrafter, not the nuisance they sometimes thought her to be! After all, reflected Elissa, she had not asked to be born a girl. And she was just as good as the boys, save for not having strong enough arms to lift as much as a boy the same size could do. She executed a little dance step as she waited for H'llon to explain things to her.

H'llon glanced up from the dried papers he was busy piling together.

"You can't make paper dancing from one foot to the other" he rebuked mildly. Elissa flushed at the remark. She was, after all, a young woman now, not a little girl to jiggle with excitement.

"Sorry H'llon."

He grinned.

"Don't be sorry – be still!" he teased gently; and she knew he was not truly cross. Nevertheless, Elissa did not want to earn the solemn young man's censure; he was an easy going taskmaster but it would have been wrong to take advantage of that. And probably unhealthy, she reflected. H'llon had no time for bullies or timewasters, and when he had been Weyrlingsecond, before graduating from under the crusty eye of Weyrlingmaster R'gar, he had been known for his uncompromising discipline usually involving dirty and unpleasant tasks for those who either slacked or threw their weight around!

oOoOo

H'llon gave a thoughtful frown as he considered how best to explain paper making. It was not something he had taught before, though he had made himself something of an expert on the basics of the subject. He began,

"You've heard people say that we make paper out of wood pulp, I expect."

Elissa nodded eagerly and he gasve a wry smile.

"Not true, I'm afraid."

She blinked, re-evaluating and the woodcrafter went on.

"Alas, there is no easy way out like that to use up wood shavings, only the old use of packing it round ice blocks in winter to keep it cold for the summer deep in the deepest caverns. I have experimented – but it will not hold together as sheets. There might be a process that permits it to do so; but if there is, we have not yet discovered it" he pulled a chagrined face. "What we need to do with wood to make paper is chiefly to burn it" he saw her look of horrified uncomprehending disbelief and laughed. "It requires hardwood – so that means Lemos or somewhere further south. Which is where the difficulty and expense come in. Master Bendarek and Lord Asgenar maintain hardwood stands, but it will be many Turns before there is a large and viable quantity. For paper we need soda ash – made like the lye that is used by some to make soap, if sweetsand is not available. The ash from the hardwood has water run through it, and this helps to break down the fibres of the raw material to make it workable and pliable."

"How does it work?" she asked.

He pulled a face.

"Now that, I'm afraid, I don't know. Any more than I know how it turns animal fat into soap" Elissa had a small bar of soap; H'llon had brought it back from the Woodcrafter Hall as a gift. It was a very pleasant way of washing and she could not see either how it had been made from animal fat! H'llon added, "Master Bendarek discovered the use of soda ash, probably" he grinned, "by accident, though never say I suggested that! I do know that he got the idea for writing leaves – paper – from watching felt being made." He told her.

"What basic raw material do we use?" she asked.

"The best Master Bendarek found was the fibrous material between birch bark and the wood. He found that rotten old rags cut small added strength and also whiteness if they were undyed. That's what the bad smell is in the boilerhouse – old rags and fibres boiling in soda ash. It can take several days to render them down to be usable."

Elissa nodded. H'llon had a huge boiler made from pumice cement in a small annexe off his main workshop under which a fierce fire could be set. Sometimes rather pungent smells would escape through the close fitting copper lid! A smile touched H'llon's face as she wrinkled her little nose in disgust at the thought of the smell.

"I imagine you might well have the same effect leaving the rags and plant material out in the weather to rot instead of speeding it up with the soda ash; but I think that would be very unhealthy as well as seeming too untidy and haphazard."

Elissa hid a smile. H'llon was well known not only for his naivety and tongue-tied aspect where women were concerned (Elissa did not count: she was in his eyes too young and his apprentice into the bargain and therefore a person not a woman) but also for his passion for having a place for everything and having everything in its place. It was Telfer's belief that this was why he had trouble with women who were not Logicators – that they were too scatty. H'llon's obsession with everything being just so made him a good Logicator: he noticed little discrepancies about people or places. It also drove his apprentices half way to_ **between**_ with frustration at his insistence that not only should all tools be put back in EXACTLY the right order, but that also all the handles should be level.

"Can you use anything else for raw material?" asked Elissa.

"A good question." Commented H'llon, approvingly. Elissa glowed happily at praise from her hero. He added, "Probably any plant material that is fibrous would do. Which is to say most." He declared.

"What about the reed pith paper that T'rin made at the Harper Hall?" she asked. T'rin had just Impressed Blue Renpeth and had fitted back into Weyr life as though he had never been away!

"You do keep your ears open! Yes, that was rough, because all Tyrin – as he was then – did was to moisten the pith, weave it together and bang it hard to soften flatten and smoothen it." He told her. "Treated to separate it – and I think it would not take much – and turned into a pulp I suspect it would make a finer quality paper than we now have. I've made some successful experiment with the leaves of reeds and I had intended to experiment further – but then there was Melth and I got rather busy." His face softened as he spoke of his beloved dragon so unexpectedly – to him – Impressed. He pulled himself out of his contemplative reverie and smiled. "I will show you the conventional way to make paper: and when you are competent, you shall if you wish it doo the experiments I have not found time for."

If she wished it!

"Oh yes PLEASE H'llon" she gasped, flushing with pleasure. He grunted.

"Well, don't start flying before you're hatched, youngster." He warned her. "Now come and see the process the boiled matter has to go through."

H'llon unlocked the boiler room door, locking it behind him; for paper making was a closely guarded craft secret. T'lan had probably figured out how to do it, reflected Elissa, but she felt privileged to be trusted with it! H'llon unlocked a further door that opened into a cavern carved out of the living rock and that ran, Elissa guessed, beside his workshop. He set several baskets of glows on high shelves and she gasped. A big wooden wheel turned slowly but inexorably, pushed by the laughing efforts of a small underground stream which then disappeared into a pipe like channel and doubtless emptied iself singing and gurgling into the big lake. The wheel was connected to a big paddle in a vat easily big enough for several people to bathe in. over it a frame hung on levers and pulleys, covered on its top surface by a loose woven cloth stretched taut. A second frame sat over it on its own pulleys. Several smaller versions were stacked at the side of the vat.

"You'll use the small moulds at first, and for your own experiments." H'llon told her, following her gaze. "The big mould and deckle – that's the empty frame on top, it keeps the damp pulp in until the water has drained then is lifted away from the mould – they need the pulleys to keep them straight. They are too big and awkward to handle, even for someone my size!" Elissa marvelled that there were things too big for the giant young woodcrafter to handle; but the frames did indeed look awkward – and that was often more of a problem than merely being heavy! H'llon showed her how to dip the small frame into the pulp, tilting it gently back and forth until much of the water had run out; and how to turn it out onto a prepared cloth. He helped her make a stack of sheets with a cloth between each, then took it over to the big pressing machine with its gargantuan screw.

"Before I made this, I used to put it between two boards and walk up and down on it – or get Melth to sit on it!" he told her cheerfully. "But so many people want paper I needed something more, er, EFFICIENT!" Master Fandarel was a frequent customer for paper as well as for T'lan's calculations, and Elissa chuckled at H'llon's deliberate choice of the smith's favourite word!. H'llon added "When I was an apprentice, all the pulping was done by hand. When I found the stream in here I was delighted – the water powered masher takes a lot of effort out of the job, and T'lan worked out exactly what sized cogs I needed to get the best results. I'm a believer in saving effort from mechanical tasks – and unlike some I do not believe in giving apprentices hard work for the sake of hard work. It takes their mind of the important task of learning." Elissa nodded. H'llon may be considered radical by many, but his ideas made sense. And she for one never felt that she was kicking her heels because H'llon or T'lan had invented a labour saving device – for H'llon always found plenty for his apprentices to do!

H'llon released the screw on the press as the water running out slowed to a sullen drip.

"Now each piece must be hung to dry on its cloth." He told her. "You've done that before. Then you may make another batch on your own using the pulp that remains in the vat. Once that is done, you can make the soda ash for the next lot, see to its boiling and washing; and then set the levers to pulp it. I've sent plans for this pulper to Master Bendarek: so I expect a lot of apprentices at the Woodcrafter Hall like me right now!" he added with a chuckle.

Elissa was sure he was right about that!

oOoOo

Elissa threw herself into her new chore; and it was not long before H'llon professed himself satisfied with her work. Now she was ready to start experimentation with such of the late year's growth as she could find. However, newly harvested hay was available and she added that to her work, and found it satisfactory. The husks of sweetcorn too were successful, and onion skins; though something of the smell tended to linger! Flax discarded by the Weavercraft Hall as inferior was also most satisfactory; and although it took some effort to ret down, redwort produced a pretty pink paper. Elissa had her failures too, of course; straw gave a much less satisfactory result than hay, and fellis proved too recalcitrant. The greatest success in a way was from the reed pith, but it showed a tendency to be brittle and difficult to couch onto the pressing cloths, it was also sticky and difficult to remove until it had dried several days! The winter passed quickly as Elissa worked her way through her materials, finding too that it made a difference whether some plants were gathered fresh or dried. Fresh grass made a good if dark paper, fine and with good crackle. When it dried the result was soft and floppy and rather coarse. Obviously there was something in fresh leaves that dried out of it!

oOoOo

Sufficient hardwood mysteriously appeared at regular intervals, knotted pieces or small branches, suitable for making lye if insufficient for furniture. Though there were enough large pieces secreted away in H'llon's workshop that Elissa privately suspected that H'llon and his cronies R'cal and V'gion made the odd clandestine trip further south than they had any right to be; but she kept her thoughts to herself! Instead she selected a wide range of plant materials to experiment with, and at H'llon's insistence kept extensive notes. The latter chore was not her favourite occupation: but H'llon showed her his own notes on projects he had undertaken, and explained that he had been able to send back summaries to the Master Woodcrafter to the ultimate advantage of the craft. Elissa sighed and did as she was bid; and when she had produced a wide variety of experimental leaves, H'llon selected the two best sheets of each and instructed her to write up her findings as two copies on the requisite papers. Persistent failures were mounted on standard leaves so that the nature of the failure might be examined for future avoidance – or further experimentation!

When Elissa had completed her task, she presented her sheef of papers to H'llon – but little expected the manner of their return. H'llon took the sheets away – and several days later returned two copies of beautifully bound books with the words 'paper experiments – apprentice Elissa' tooled on the cover. She was speechless.

"I should like to keep one for reference, if I may." H'llon requested. Elissa nodded, still tongue-tied as she turned her pages, looking so beautiful presented thus! H'llon continued,

"And you will need the other to show to Master Bendarek as a showpiece."

"M-Master Bendarek? Why?" she stammered..

"Because you need to go to the Woodcrafter hall if you want to continue learning. You need the specialisations of more than one journeyman – and more time being taught than I can afford to give you. You could walk the tables one day – if you want to."

"You think I could make it to journeyman?" she could scarcely believe it….

"It could take years of hard work." He warned. "but yes, I think you can. With this book and your showpiece chair I think Bendarek will accept you."

Elissa had wondered why H'llon had insisted on several different techniques on that little three-legged, high backed chair. The legs had been turned on the treadle-worked lathe H'llon had built himself: each leg as identical to the others as she could make them. The back was surmounted by a carefully chip carved dragon, its spread wings forming a support to the shoulders. The tail ran down the central strut of a pierced pack, each slot cut carefully with the fine fret saw. Elissa had earned several reproofs for her language while she cut them; it was hard work and difficult to keep the cuts straight as well. the results had been worth it; it was a very pretty piece and H'llon had already advised her to turn down a generous financial offer made for it by Pilgra.. however, she had a query about her future – and it was potentially a big one!

"What about my parents?" she asked anxiously. They had been bemused at first when H'llon had offered an apprenticeship at first; and amused at her continuing perseverance. H'llon smiled encouragingly.

"I already spoke to them. They were quite willing." He did not tell the girl that her parents had been taken aback that she should be good enough; but as all they wanted was the happiness of their (in their eyes) strange little girl they had put nothing in the way of H'llon's suggestion.

Elissa hugged H'llon; her eyes were wet with tears of joy.

"Well now!" said H'llon, embarrassed, disengaging himself. "You'd better go see them and get your things together."

oOoOo

Elissa and her parents did not get through their farewells without tears; but she promised to write often! Saying goodbye to the other apprentices and her friend Serehana was hard too; and Serehana was most disconsolate at being left without a friend of similar age and interests – but Elissa reminded her that some of the younger Green candidates might prove hopeful! What Elissa did regret that her co-apprentice Telfer would not be going with her. Although he had recovered most of his sight that had been lost in the horrific fire more than two turns before, he still had headaches. Master Oldive of the Healer Hall felt that some scar tissue was causing the problem by pressing on his worse eye; and had mooted the idea of an operation to remove it. Telfer was busy nerving himself for this, which had been scheduled for when the weather improved. Assuming it proved successful, he was hoping to join Elissa in the Summer. Telfer, however, was a good natured lad, and did not resent Elissa's good fortune although she was younger than him. As he said,

"I'd never had been given a chance to be an apprentice at anything if H'llon hadn't trusted that I could work from feel at first. And Softy helped of course" he scratched the poll of his little firelizard as he referred to him, grateful for the use of the little creature's eyes before his own sight started to improve. "and it was the care I was given here that helped me get my sight back, making sure that I got those drops from Master Oldive. No-one else would have cared for me like you High Reaches bunch have – and D're of course." He added. "Go ahead and have fun, kid – and I'll be there soon!" he gave her a brotherly hug, and Elissa found herself sniffing again. Telfer cuffed her gently. "Stow that emotion, bratllet!" he growled, sniffing himself!

oOoOo

It was with considerable trepidation that Elissa got ready for her first trip _**between**_ and the opening of a new chapter in her life at the Woodcrafter Hall! She had been regularly on dragonback, so mounting the huge but obliging Melth held no terrors for her; H'llon had been in the habit of taking his apprentices for educational trips and to gather wood from the dark pine forests close to the Weyr. Doubtless H'llon would have marched them their but for his consideration for the disabilities of the boys – Telfer's initial blindness, and Radall's lack of legs. Radall himself made little of a condition he had always lived with, but although he was as fast on the flat in his cart as most people on legs, the rough mountain slopes would have presented some problems.

There was no going back now. Murmuring thanks to Melth for his extended foreleg, Elissa settled herself down. Then Melth had leaped into the air, powerful bronze wings lifting up at breath robbing speed. She looked down at the seven Spindles for the last time – for a while at least. Then they were in the black more-than-cold nothing of _**between**_!

oOoOo

Elissa knew she had yelped briefly; and was a little ashamed; but as they broke out into normality and she could breathe again, H'llon patted her shoulder.

"Good girl." He approved. "Not many get through their first trip_ **between**_ for the first time without much fuss." He pointed downward. "Look – your new home!"

Elissa looked – and gasped at the dense matt of the upper canopy of sky broom trees, each one exuding protective resins that resisted Thread itself! The Woodcrafter Hall stood in a wide clearing between stands of trees; a complex of stone buildings with the cots of independent woodcrafters like H'llon's parents set around it. Elissa recognised several species of trees from drawings done by Geriana at H'llon's request. The Weyrartist had reproduced general characteristics as well as close ups of leaves and fruit to help H'llon teach. Even hardwoods grew here, planted by Asgenar and maintained with F'lar's blessing.

There was a gut wrenching whoosh! As Melth dropped to land outside the main hall. Curious eyes were on Elissa as she walked beside H'llon to meet the Master Woodcrafter; but she didn't care. THIS was what she really wanted!


	10. Chapter 10

Zaira spring 2522

Zaira was feeling most discontented.

She had an excellent reason;and that excellent reason was H'llon.

She also had a shrewd idea that she was picking up a deal of snippiness from her little queen firelizard, Melody, who must be nearly full grown by now.. it was certainly not the weather; it haad ben a balmy spring, marred only by worry over L'rilly and her illness. And now, Zaira thought, like Melody she was fully mature. Holder girls her age were often married. And she had had to grow up fast in self defense being the only child of an Oldtimer woman, born as a result of coming _**between**_ four hundred turns. Being over mothered by those women who had come forward too had been a good reason to grow up fast!

So, Zaira lay on a small rocky outcrop overlooking the bowl of High Reaches Weyr, hidden from view by its rocky edge, and nibbled a blade of grass thoughtfully, pondering the nature of her problem with H'llon.

H'llon was unfailingly kind and courteous to her, as well as affectionate. He held her hand when they were out; he took her to beautiful places on Melth's broad back; and he carved her exquisite ornaments. He was a handsome young man, not yet twenty turns, big, strong and dependable. He had also assured her father Z'kan that he would take care of her, and proceeded to be immensely and satisfyingly protective.

Which was all very nice.

Except that the silly clunch extended his protectiveness to protecting her from himself, as it were.

Zaira picked another blade of grass to chew on and watched H'llon at work in the bowl sawing wood. His bare back rippled with muscles and the sweat glistened as he worked. Zaira purred like a firelizard.

It was no good.

H'llon needed to be firmly taken in hand.

It was not difficult getting rid of H'llon's two remaining apprentices. Fortunately, reflected Zaira, boys were less imaginative. Had Elissa not gone to the Woodcrafter hall she would have pestered Zaira with questions!

Having assured herself that H'llon would be alone, Zaira approached his weyr while he took a break. H'llon weyred near his workshop and had a flight of steps from the bowl to the cave mouth for convenience. She strode purposefully into the sleeping apartment.. H'llon had just bathed and pulled on a clean pair of trews; he was all damp and nice smelling…..

"I need to talk to you, H'llon" she said.

H'llon glanced up, concerned.

"That sounded serious. I'm at your disposal, Zaira. Sit down" he patted the sleeping couch.

Zaira sat, staring at her interlaced fingers in her lap with apparent fascination.

"H'llon" she began. "You're a man."

"Yes?" H'llon was confused.

"Everything is, I presume in full working order in that big, well ordered and efficient body of yours" she continued.

"Well, yes, but…"

"H'llon, what am I?"

"You're a girl. Well, I suppose a young woman" he amended as she scowled. It was a signal he could pick up; frighteningly intelligent in some ways, H'llon had severe blind spots in others. Emotional entanglements and the inner meanings of female behaviour was one of them..Zaira continued patiently.

"And when a man and a woman are together in private, Certain Things happen."

Light dawned on H'llon – or so he thought.

"Oh, yes, but you don't have to worry about THAT, little Zaira!" he hastened to reassure her.

Zaira sighed.

"I DO worry" she said. He looked at her gravely.

"You never need think I would do anything you did not like, Zaira" he re-iterated. "I shan't lay a finger on you."

Zaira made an exasperated little noise and flounced into a standing position staring down at him.

"And THAT is what worries me!" she shouted at him. "I'm beginning to think I'm not pretty!"

"Oh but you are! You're beautiful!" declared H'llon.

"Then why the fardles aren't you kissing me?" she demanded. Light finally DID dawn on H'llon.

"But…you're so young…your father wouldn't like it…" he stammered.

The sound she made was rather indelicate.

"He doesn't have to like it. I'm not asking you to kiss him" she said rudely. "H'llon you great lout, you can't pick up body language, you don't take hints, I've tried asking, am I going to have to hit you over the head and DRAG you into bed? Shells and shards, you dumb bronze rider, if you can't string together the letters S,E,X in a coherent order, can't you at least manage to do it?"

"Oh!" said H'llon in a small voice. "Are you SURE?"

Zaira closed her eyes to count to ten for patience; then sat firmly on his knee.

H'llon made a thorough job of kissing her. He had not, at the time appreciated K'len and M'kel arranging to have him well seen to by M'kel's obliging ex lover Mirelle; but it looked like the experience was going to come in handy now.

"Are you REALLY sure?" he asked again as Zaira started wriggling.

Zaira growled and started investigating his belt buckle.

"Melody's shiny" she said succinctly. "I have no intention of letting anyone but your Sniffer fly her. I know" she looked up at him "That it's not as intense as with dragons – but I also know that you do get involved. And H'llon" her eyes pleaded "I want to be in control first time, all right?"

H'llon nodded and kissed her gently.

"You could bundle up like the little boys with greens." He suggested. Zaira's look told him what she thought of THAT idea. H'llon gave in.

"If it's what you want, little love." He conceded. "I've been waiting for you to grow up."

Zaira devoted her attentions to showing him just how grown up she really was! H'llon was content to turn his attentions to satisfying her enthusiastic if not terribly knowledgeable demands, not having to hold his feelings down any more; but Zaira never knew the iron resolve that kept her leading!

Their exertions woke Melth, who stuck his head through the cavern doorway to investigate. Zaira waved a preoccupied hand at him.

"Dear Melth. Go away – you're huffing half a hurricane in here!" she complained.

Melth, curiosity satisfied, withdrew. After all, everyone said that a golden egg must soon be laid for Zaira!

Zaira snuggled into the warm, dark, musk scented darkness that was H'llon's broad chest. She wasn't discontented any more!


End file.
